Gay Girl’s Guide to College

Republic of Mandom

Posted in Gay Media, Poetic Rambings by Leslie on March 13, 2009

I had the strangest dream last night, which might have been due to the fact that I had only gotten three hours of sleep in the past 36 hours, but regardless.

The setting: a dystopia, hauntingly like the Republic of Gilead.

A heterosexual love story of queer proportions: Offred and Nick.
A heterosexual love story of queer proportions: Offred and Nick.

The story: I am in a red dress.  We have been bused in from somewhere else, somewhere real, and we’re all milling about, lost, looking into store windows at the luxuries we can’t afford.

They stand guard in blue suits and watch us, smile.  The ones who have swallowed it, hook line and sinker, have black irises.  I do not.

Some of us lounge in chairs like we were resting on the lido deck of a Carnival cruise ship.  I sit here for a while, scared.  The sun doesn’t help.  I get up and move around.  I explore.

A group of colored-irises and I find a dead body, decaying, under railroad tracks in the area of this place we aren’t supposed to go to.  It’s the founder, or a trespasser.  We aren’t sure.  We do not touch, and yet I hunger for flesh.

I go into a pet store.  The one next to me points at a turtle and shrieks.  They give us pennies for weeks of work.  We will never afford a turtle.  I start to feel like my innards are seeping out when a man with colored irises winks at me and leans in close.  He hugs me, which isn’t allowed, and I feel the warmth and smoothness of his neck against my hand.  It is like butter, like caressing the sun.  My fingers hit a round metal protrusion in his neck, something artificial, something they put inside him… he pulls away.  Looks me in the eye.  Smiles and walks away.

It was the most erotic dream I’ve had in years, and the culprit was a man with a Frankenstein neck.

Let’s just call it unsettling.

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