I'll always be Baptist,
like I'll always be from the South.
That's how it is.
I contemplated becoming a priest,
it seemed good, a delight, desirable.
Then the dream, that of being collared,
easily leashed, led.
I woke up bitter.

John the Baptist did not live long
but by God he lived -
the forerunner,
the vox clamantis in deserto,
the unworthy footman,
among those born of women
none greater,
a honey of a life.

And then a pluck of
southern comfort:
easy to come undone
when young girls dance;
best carry necktape,
a collar or somethin',
not lose your head.
I'll always be a man.

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