you said all you ever wanted was to be a woman
and you came about as close as a man can get.
a stylish coiffure.
like a sculpture of a woman.
like a method actor
immersed in the part,
holding your cigarette just so,
sitting down to pee,
crossing your skinny legs at the knee
to show a bit of perfumed thigh.
we call 'em like we see 'em.
in the bar nobody recognized the truth.
you perched on that stool, basking in the back lit haze
like some halftoned hollywood diva.
but in the bright lights of an all night grocery
the cashier clocked you and looked away
while the bag boy, like me, wanted to take you home.