Jomar Isip

Three Scenes at The Rocky Horror Picture Show

One

My legs are shaved for the first time and I am freezing
next to Cody and Laura laying flat in the bed of a friend’s pickup

A man, called Pixie, kisses me, on the lips, with lipstick,
it’s hot and sticky inside, I step out to feel Newport Beach breeze

There are two more years of high school, a new war,
so much I do not know, but I am sure this is where I grow up

Two

How was I to know the whole fag-loves-the-broken-straight
was already played out? Fame (1980, not that shit 2009 version), Dorris

Has her sexual awakening at the midnight showing, but I’m
re-watching drugged-up Ralph oblivious to Monty, the worst gay

A ginger, effete but in the wrong way, not armor but shell
strumming, “Is It Okay If I Call You Mine?” and, gawd, I get it

Three

Emma trying so hard not to be Hermione is one of the Perks
of Being a Wallflower, a “sensual daydream” for broken (mentally) Charlie

Her gay brother, Ezra being extra-extra, falls for him too
not as the sweet transvestite, but the guy getting it from the All-American

In another pickup, a tight end from Wilson High, wrote his number
on the back of a senior photo, “I want to see you again.” I never called.

Four

How unoriginal a transgression. To stay up late, fall in love
with what Harvey Fierstein calls “the terminally straight,” lose yourself

In a time-warp back to when your alien skin was all there was,
no real loss, no real life, just a few memorized lines, confetti in your hands

And the uncomplicated dance steps of every rom-com
that’s really about being a closeted teenager. Don’t dream it. Be it.