Freaks (Foto, Piers)

My beloved Piers,
° I saw with my own eyes:

1. Big giant tattooed Maori females astride big giant Harleys;
2. A preoperative transsexual who will never fit into Nancy Reagan‘s Size 2 handmedowns;
3. A coven of tiedyed frizzyhaired redheaded pagans;
4. A banker waving from an open convertible;
5. The entire Overton chapter of NOW, 3 damsels;
6. I saw rodeo cowboys;
7. I saw Tira in my morning coffeescum, I saw adoptable greyhounds galore;
8. I saw Muslim women collecting freebie books, funeral parlour fans, refrigerator magnets;
9. I saw buff boys collecting free henna tattoos;
10. I saw nonTrinitarians, I saw relaxed Episcopalians, Oxy Wesley as backdrop;
11. I saw a vendor hawking icons of the great god Priapus;
12. I saw two painted women in stilettos, who weren‘t transsexual men;
13. I saw the clouded heavens open and a shaft of Berninilike light illumine Leggero in the midst of his tribe;
14. I saw folks stuffing their bellies, burning their faces and shoulders, swaying to free music;
15. I saw lots of things.

° But the only thing I saw that shocked me was:

16. I saw Presbyterians!

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° I saw Gay Pride transformed from a political movement--there were no “God Hates Fags” signs, no “And He’s Not That Crazy about Pharisees Either” countersigns--into a gala.
° I saw Pride transformed from a Deadly Sin into a description of the phalanx of young males surrounding Leggero, like Greeks ready to take on Trojans, like an allforoneandoneforall college fraternity, like a Pride of big giant tawny jungle cats.

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° The only thing, besides the muchmissed hecklers, I didn’t see was Freaks.
° “I never go to Pride,” had said Derrico the week before. “It’s just a freak show.”

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° Course I’m as nearsighted as MM in How to Marry a Millionaire, so don’t go by me.

° Andando sempre fiero di te, Giac.