The "Don't Say Gay" Bill, Poeticized - A Political Poem
From the incorrigible yet inimitable mind of Eugene Erigena--a man better born than reared.
Eclipsed is the sun in the sunshine state
Darkened by clouds of conservative hate
Which haunt the land like a joyless specter,
Draining the fruit of its orange nectar;
Spoiling the fragrant, soft tropical air
With fumes exhaled by a legislature
Gathered in Tallahassee’s right-wing court
On which, in this poem, I’ll make my report.
On DeSantis’ desk, a vile bill was placed—
Made law, by which his tenure’s now disgraced.
Its contents?—you ask, I tremble to say:
The law makes unlawful those who are gay!
Those to whom Sappho is more than a muse
To whom I hasten, whenever I choose
An outfit. What?—Do you not do the same?
Style’s the art to which they most have a claim!
The one skill at which they’re preeminent
To whose gay verdict, I’ll always consent.
Back to the bill, lest I longer digress
(A habit of mine, I’ll plainly confess!)
This mean act would unconditionally
Ban from the classrooms of grades K-3
All talk of sex. There would be no reference
To birds and bees, and one’s mating preference.
No talk of coitus and fornication,
Much less whispers about masturbation.
No tips in the trade of lusty Onan
Who pleased himself with his trusty own hand.
No guide to exploring one’s own body
For those little youngsters aged eight to three.
No study of the “Gender Unicorn”
No early exposure to childish porn.
No story time by burly drag queens led
Which devolves from reading to twerking, ‘tis said.
(Nothing to nip youthful purity’s bud
Like the pelvic thrusts of a cross-dressed stud!)
No deliberate confusion of our kids
No concealment of lessons under lids
Beneath which parents may not look. What’s more!—
Prepare for your jaw to drop to the floor:
This depraved curriculum will insist
The concerns of parents not be dismissed.
To them will be returned the inborn right
To raise their children with full oversight.
To address these most sensitive topics
In a way befitting their own optics.
To have final say o’er questions of health
And not have strange drugs prescribed under stealth
Of a “woke” nurse whose plan is to revise
That which hangs between your tender child’s thighs.
If, by this bill, you’re not wholly appalled—
Your passions provoked, and your conscience galled
Your sympathies poked, your feelings perturbed
Every bone of your humane being disturbed…
Then you must be a real bigoted rube
(Needing expulsion from kingly YouTube!)
Go ahead, then—go on your churlish way
Celebrate this bill and never say gay.
As for the rest of us—to another
State we shall go, where teachers can smother
Their students in heaps of untimely tripe
Poured upon minds that are green and unripe.
Where sex will be taught in grades K-3
And all will be lost of youth’s purity.
Where the power of parents will be reduced
And that of teachers, Liberally misused.
So long as we ride this horse of hobby
And bow to the LGBT lobby.
Oh! Silly me!-- I've forgotten the "Q"
The coda of "Queer" I'd dare not eschew!
But, Gene, what about the "I" and the "A"?
Should we not be listing letters all day...?
All day, all month, as we will be quite soon
When the vice of "Pride" encompasses June.
All month and all year, the road that we're on
Thoughts of "queerness" will never be gone!
I’ve exhausted my wit, emptied my pen
Thus marking another poem at its end.
To those who object, I've one thing to say:
Gay gay gay gay, gay gay gay gay gay gay.