Brief elegy by B.D. Love
Jeff would later die of cancer, his balls,
Which I’m sure the fundamentalists would claim
Was the will of God. Who’s God? Not mine, you fools.
Jeff was open at SMU. His name
Aroused suspicion. And he was brilliant, truly,
He wrote poems of whimsy, all very fine,
Drew and painted, and also played unruly
Improvised masterpieces on piano. Insane,
The music students judged. But if you’d heard
You would have understood the logic of a gay
In the world of the Seventies. I knew it was hard
On him, his love, and I, a straight, wouldn’t stray.
A friend. In many ways, a younger mentor.
He left at twenty one. Our benefactor.