1957

You know, I very rarely think about having a penis
When I'm listening to music or watching tv --
It's just something I guess I take for granted.
It doesn't give me discomfort, thank goodness,
And when I'm in love, lust, or just being hit
In the face by a breast, it usually "comes to life"
In a way that gives pride and satisfaction.

Human sexual response is a taboo subject
In many social settings, and for good reason --
Arousal, like yawning, can be mysteriously contagious,
And then of course there's the problem of non-arousal
And anxiety; while it is important to be charismatic
At the workplace, it would betray poor judgment
To make of the most personal matters a public display.

And yet, we are born and develop into various genders
With such urgent needs we can barely imagine,
So much of commercial enterprise relying on the chaos
Of our communal incomprehension to keep the engine,
The sexual combustion engine of commerce, firing
On all pistons at all times. We are animals,
Stupefied and obedient to prerational schemata.

I guess you could say this is all obvious stuff.
What surprises me in all this, though, is not how seldom
I consider my own sexuality, but how seldom when I see
An attractive stranger I visualize anything sexual beyond
Kissing and petting. When I saw you it was like
Being hit by a wave. I saw myself -- felt -- fitting
Into you. It felt important to say something normal.