Bonnie Rose Marcus

Pride March 

Bryant Park buffed flag twirlers 
practice on the lawn.
Corner of Madison and 41st, big Red SAGE bus 
for the Stonewall elders.

Blue-striped shirt, your eyes lit. 
The day is hot. 
We find a bit of shade, tree with white blossoms.

Your pain meds not kicking in, but still you’re ready to march.  

Dykes on bikes reeve their motors
bare breasted women kiss 
 gay men in sequined panties
flaunt nearly naked butts.

Scarves. flags, buttons, rainbows everywhere,
crowds cheer feast-of-love, volunteers hand out
dixie cups of water as we pass Marble Collegiate
church on 27th and Fifth.

This celebratory Pride, not always the way, you say, remembering
AIDS, when you offered free massage to those who others dared
not touch and I imagine your hands tenderly tending dying bodies.

As we turn down 8th street, crowds thicken, men on terraces 
in shocking pink briefs, feathered tiaras, women with red hearts 
pasted on their nipples, razor cut hair dyed purple and blue, mothers
for Trans-kids, Grandma’s for Gays, Godmothers for Lesbians, we walk
a steady pace, closer and closer, you could have fit a pin between our bodies.

Confetti pouring from windows, fire escapes,
glitter on our arms, legs, as we leap 

into our first and last 
Pride together. 

Bonnie Rose Marcus, lesbian/queer poet, author of The Luminosity, and Consultant at SAGE (Services and Advocacy for LGBTQ+ Elders) where she facilitates support/empowerment groups using poetry and meditation.