Sunshine Seuss
Seuss with a Twist
It was autumn in
Pittsville and all the gay folk
Were playing at horseshoes and skip rope and jokes.
They knew that too soon the winter would come
And then they would have to fly south to the sun.
They would fly from the winter, run fast,
fast—away,
But there were a few folk who would rather just stay.
They wanted to stay where the coal dust turned gray
The windows and buildings and trees where they
play.
The Lads from the street where the liberty lived
Would rather just stay and they just wouldn't give
And inch to the others who said, "You must leave here and soon!
Or the evil old Stockwell will make you all swoon!
He'll soon take away all your fun and your games
And then only "mud" will be what we're all named.
The `others' don't like us,
They say we're all queer,
They don't understand that there's nothing to fear.
They think that with us, that their children aren't
safe,
They think that we want to steal every young waif
And convert them—how silly!
As if someone could!
But that's what they think.
And so, Willy nilly,
You must all run away,
To where it is safe for you all to play.
But the few who said "No, we just don't want to go."
Stood their ground and pretended that that it was just all show.
They said "We will stay here—just see if we don't!"
And their friends shook their heads and they "You're all dopes!"
So they did stay and one night, while after a dance,
There was a young man who said too many rants
About the young fellows who liked, so he said,
To take other young men right straight to their beds
He did not like this,
Oh no, he did not!
And so he thought and he thought and came up with a plot.
A plot that was terrible, horrible, grim,
And when he had hatched it, it made him just grin.
He would stop the boys who liked boys
He would stop all the noise
About how it was not a terrible thing
To like who you liked,
Maybe even have rings
That they would give, when they wanted
One to one so their friends
Could see they were just normal
Not weirdos who rend
The fabric of life
On the liberty street.
They were just folks
Really just folks!
With socks on their feet
Who did all the things that `others' would do,
But sometimes they did them with other men, too.
Poo Poo! That was sick-o!
He said to his friends
It was sick-o and ick-o and yuck-o and gross!
He'd stop them; he would, if not all, then just most.
So he got a big bat
And hit in the head the youngest young fellow
And Oh!, then he bled.
He fell on the ground and he did not get up
And the `others' just said
"He was just in his cups,
To do such a thing,
Oh no, gracious me!
He's such a nice boy,
This just cannot be."
So he lay there, all bloody,
The youngest young man
When his young dancing friend
Took the bat in his hand
And hit the `other' young man in the knee.
He did not want to, He had to, you see.
Because if he had not, the `other' young man
Would have gotten away with his terrible plan.
But he did not,
They caught him and all the folk thought
That there would be justice for what he had wrought.
But that was not how it happened, I'm sorry to
say,
The frightened young man walked Scott free away.
He might have learned his lesson,
He might have, I hope,
But that would lying—he was only a dope
Who was frightened by something he could not comprehend—
Why some boys like boys and why some men like men.
Some ladies like ladies,
Some girls, others girls,
And someday, yes someday,
Perhaps with some luck
It will no longer matter just who you do fuck.