It’s Easter and I search the streets of Key West for a kindred lost soul. The Bertonis have gone on a snorkeling trip to celebrate the Nailed God’s rising from the dead. Giuiliana suggested this was a family outing and I stayed ashore.. I see no one like me. Only soulless tourists. I go into the Sands and have a Daiquiri. Double strength and it’s not even noon. After another I show up to an early gay tea dance and grind against hard bodied queers and do poppers. I am a sinner on Easter holiday in the Keys. Fucked up into the bright sunlight without sunglasses. I buy a cheap pair for $5 and stager into Sloppy Joes. Another legendary Daiquiri. I wander over to the fenced Naval base. Mariel boats are piled on each other like the dead. The well-dressed Navy family walks in a row. I was once one of them.
I drink more at the tea dance and resist being queer.
It’s easy after a few lines of blow.
It’s getting late.
I crossed the bridge over the Garrison Bight and watch the sunset away from the conch madness.
Everything is so flat in Key West.
Flat island, flat streets, flat Gulfstream.
I am so fucked.