Driving onto Cape Cod late at night,
mid 70’s, cops stopping us
where are you going,
and the frozen stares as we said Ptown.
Shining spotlights at the kids
sleeping in the back.  Do you
have relatives there, as though
that was the only legitimat reason
to head for this gay mecca.
We were soft spoken,
diplomatic, we knew the power
of the state, the gleaming guns
in their holsters.