ADVICE AFTER ART SHOW
some good advice from Sean Hanrahan
ADVICE AFTER ART SHOW
I’m the neurotic kinda gay.
If I were Cro-Magnon,
I’d have to stand around a fire—
not just for atheistic warmth—
but to believe it exists.
When I was younger,
I’d strangle my newfound loves
in the crib, some combo of
depression and clichéd,
internalized homophobia.
On a slutty night,
I met my husband.
It was the classic tale
of man meets man
meets long distance relationship.
That heady time when we would
see each other once a month—
go to art shows
with our local friends
and drink a wine glass too much.
I started freaking out
getting ready to smother love
with a discolored Afghan blanket
when my good friend from high school
gave me some good advice.
Like all good advice,
I cannot recall the exact words.
[Insert corruption of famed
Maya Angelou quote here.]
I remember she caught me up short.
She said something resembling,
“If you cling too close,
you’ll lose your man.”
I was probably obsessed
over a missed or nonexistent text.
I was cool over everything
except love affairs—
never got those down.
I will never forget her advice;
I suppose my husband won’t either.
Now, I huddle around fires
not strange Cro-Magnon men
in bars for warmth.
I am still an atheist,
but a happier one.
I do not see my friend often,
but when I do I am reminded.
She kept my love alive—
with her sage advice—our love
is now old enough to vote.
Sean Hanrahan (he, him, his) is a Philadelphian poet originally hailing from Dale City, Virginia. He is the author of Headless (2025 Collapse), the full-length collections Safer Behind Popcorn (2019 Cajun Mutt) and Ghost Signs (2023 Alien Buddha), and the chapbooks Hardened Eyes on the Scan (2018 Moonstone) and Gay Cake (2020 Toho).
