It wasn't your mother's blossomy trail
LGBQT then just tiles you'd dread
Not squaring smartly on the pink, the red--
The blues worth less than a get out of jail.
It wasn't as grand then the wet bloody strip
For winners, for losers, for living, for dead
The raisers, the folders, those to be wed--
They're parked forever a memory's blip.
It wasn't your UT Longhorns of today
Charlie clocked there with a roll of the die
Killing born and unborn while perched on high--
Amen! Amen! Amen! "Carry!" you say.
Three jaunts taken to three hardscrabble roads--
Summering still in simmering abodes.
