• Daniel Ethan Finneran

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.

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