Catholic, Gay, and Feeling Fine, Thanks
What a weight off: my beloved motorcycle is no longer sitting on the street getting rained on, but is safe in a friend’s barn. Just in time for the snowstorm that’s still raging outside. It took me two hours to drive the thirty miles home, fifteen miles an hour on the highway, basking in the…
How do you talk to strangers? What are the rules? Nobody knows. I’m usually happy when a stranger speaks to me, and some strangers are happy when I speak to them, but everybody’s worried: will he think I’m weird? When I say Good morning, do I mumble or enunciate? How big is too big to…
Lot of comments on that last one. I mean next-to-last one, not the search-term poetry. Which, again, I didn’t write. You did, dear readers, you did. Whenever someone googles Wes Welker, or grease monkeys, or other things too unmentionable to mention, and ends up on my blog, my software tells me about it. So google…
wes welker gay wes welker gay wes welker is gay? is rick moranis greek? she was bewailing her gay mallet every poem is inherently sexual you saying I like dudes walker percy bourbon catholic banana men zen master peru mallet and jews I was told to fold my wings; what does that mean? wes welker…
No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief, More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring. Comforter, where, where is your comforting? Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?1 It was bad, dear readers, very bad. I spent last night in the lowest parts of the pit, and all day today the…
I was having a great night out at the bar — I was with mostly men, a situation that would have once tied my tongue completely, but I was doing great! I left the booth to use the bathroom. I was so pleased with myself for being social, and relaxed, and non-awkward, and normal, that…
…that I haven’t forgotten you! I know there are hundreds and thousands (maybe millions!) of you who do nothing but wait for me to speak words of wisdom, and that you must have been languishing this past week in my absence. Nah. But I do wish I had had more time to post this week….
When I lived in DC I met a man from Colombia, a numerary in Opus Dei. He was just passing through, which seemed to be what he did in most places. He said he loved the single life, because he could be like Gandalf — at home everywhere and nowhere, always on some mysterious mission,…
I caught a cold, or a flu, or THE BLACK DEATH or something last Friday. I noticed it at about 2PM, which meant by the time I got home I was ready for bed. I hate, hate, hate being sick, and I was determined to kick it by Monday, so bed is pretty much where…
