i’ve always loved a good stephen king story.


it was not surprising to find me

sitting comfortably in a matinee of one of his films

excited by the popcorn and overpriced candy


it was one of those afternoons

that i saw someone like myself on that screen for the first time:


two gay men

running from

bigger, stronger men

the real enemy

(not the killer clown)



this was a more realistic fear

men killing men

flesh hurting flesh


i sat and watched

wide eyed

as they

attempted escape


words hurled at them



not names.


yes slurs.

i’d never heard before


i guess

i shouldn’t have been as surprised as i was when my ears first heard

those same slurs

directed at



and i can’t decide which is scarier

the fiction king created

or the reality that inspired it