Things Get Better


—for Dan Savage

“You can't go 
home again” 
―Thomas Wolfe
You Can’t Go Home Again

Who wants to go back home—
back to that hellhole of losers?

They’re the biggest losers of all—
stop wasting your time even trying

Does it really get better—
like Savage says in The Stranger?

I doubt it, I doubt it seriously—
back home is just fucking hell

Back home be str8t romantic love—
back home be a closet-case dream

So much for all that fuckin bullshit—
back home be just another name for exile

There’s No Escape from New York—
San Francisco or Los Angeles

No escape to Europe or some foreign land—
no home for lyricism, except yourself

Get selfish & real about it, that’s all—
back home to your own Destination

To your own youthful idea of 'freedom'—
all that’s self-sufficient about yourself

Forget 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love'—
all that shit about some str8t ivory tower

Go back home to home inside yourself—
the country of the blind, deaf and dumb

Forget Fire Island and Key West—
all those gay mythological hangouts

Forget about Tennessee Williams—
Elizabeth Bishop, Miss Auden, Isherwood

They couldn’t get away from all that strife—
Anymore than you can, it’s simple

First, forget your mother and father—
you already lost them a long time ago

Stop looking for peer group approval—
whoever they were can’t help you now

Save yourself lotsa time, ease the burden—
you don’t wanna go back home ever again

All those old forms and systems of things—
once guilting & haunting you to death

They seemed everlasting but they’re always—
changing all the time escaping all of us

Back to the real home that’s really you—
your Great Escape into Time and Memory

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