The First Time I Wanted to Say “Sapphic”
[caption id="attachment_1266" align="aligncenter" width="399" caption="The Poet of Lesbos"][/caption] It was the summer of '71--two months before I said Zeitgeist. Graveyard shift at the freight dock. Me and Goob. Swapping fantasies on a stack of pallets, waiting for a Salt Lake truck full of car parts and paint. "Mostly," says Goob, "I just want to have sex with a girl, but as a girl." "Nothing wrong with that," I said. "Don't tell nobody." "Your secret's safe with me." There was nowhere to work it in. Not as an adjective. Not with Goob. Then the truck arrived, and when I got down from the pallet, Goob snapped a towel at my crotch. I'm not sure that meant anything.