A Boy Walks Through Mexican Sodom

As I partied in TJ,
I overheard the donkey screech and neigh,
The drunks screaming for more,
That poor woman debasing her humanity,
Asking how can this possibly be
As I walked further down Revolution Boulevard,
My soul wept as I asked,

Why did I join the Navy?

I’d rather be here in Mexican Sodom,
And searching for,
A man who can love,
The mess I’ve become,
Than serve on that 505×66 prison cell,
Having to hide part of me,
Wondering why I can’t love who I want to love,
Loving in the shadows

© Gregory J. Broderick 2000, 2018


For Avi (1979-2011)

You burned too bright,
Died too soon,
Hoping to see life,
Making up for lost time,
Your life as a closet *haredi queen in Israel distant like a faint chime,

Lightyears beyond the David Barton queen you became,
Your heart caved in,
Smoking that tina laced glasscock,
Your passing was a sin,
I only wish,
You knew YOU were meant for so much more than fucking your weight in nameless faces,
As you paced,
Wondering if you could ever find someone to truly…..love

*haredi (noun): a term used in Israel to describe strictly religious Jews of various Orthodox sects

© Gregory J. Broderick 2016, 2018

Untitled 1a (Rensselaer/Troy)

As I leave my house,
Head turning from side to side,
I know the minute I leave,
I no longer have to hide,
I can finally find,
A man I can ♡ (love)

Instead of searching and searching,
Hoping to find a girl,
To throw off the scent,
Maybe mother might find me a man,
Not my fathers son,
A drug addict,
A loser,
A faggot,
But a man,
One she can think of on occassion,
And smile with pride

© Gregory J. Broderick 2000, 2018


(The first poem I ever typed on my 1925 Royal No. 10 typewriter)

As the cold winds blow,
Howling without prejudice,
I’m reminded that in spite of my protestations,
I’m simply one in a larger symphony,
Reminded to simply be,
That thing we forget to see,
When faced with uncertainty,

A beacon of hope,
A random smile on the street,
Reminding the stranger,
Bogged down by failure,
That brighter days lay ahead,
As long as you keep moving forward,
And never give up

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018

#POTUS45 Overload

I sick of hearing your name,
America is sick of your toxic game,
Placing blame your three fingers pointing towards you as proof of your misdeeds,
As you scream to the heavens it was the other way around,
My heart bleeds,
Sick of hearing your name,
I truly wish for this game,
The one with you playing POTUS,
Would finally come to an end

© Gregory J. Broderick 2018

Just Stop

His name once made me sick,
If I could have my pick,
Of anyone else other than him,
To helm the Resolute Desk,
I imagine the Best,

A leader who speaks in coherent sentences,
A leader who doesn’t build fences,
Seperating America from the world,
Plundering the treasury at the behest of his friends

Now I wish his term would simply end,
Hoping like the rest of us,
That the rest of America continues to make a fuss,
About the man who helms the resolute desk,
Hoping they finally realize that a man who uses twitter to bash other for fun,
Will have spent his last days in the media glare of the sun,
Banished to the golden palace on top of the tower bearing his name,
Living the last of his days in shame,
Wondering why people wince at the utterance of his name,
The very thing that brought him to prominence

© Gregory J. Broderick 2017

Untitled #781

As I head into the unknown,
A world without the drama winds furiously blown,
I seek sanity,
Venturing into the world of what can be,
A life filled with the promise I’d know I’d see,
Surrounded by the fruits of my labors,
The bright smiles of the ones who make my heart beat,
Beacons in the chaos we call daily living

© Gregory J. Broderick 2017