Ode to the Small-Town Gay

The small-town gay is seldom seen /
They disappear once past eighteen /
To western coasts and city scenes /
No matter where, they find the means /

The small-town gay's a thankless job /
To bear the looks and hurts they lob /
To be the butt of jokes of knobs / 
And cry, alone, heart-rending sobs /

The small-town gay sees not the day /
When their life there does change the way /
For youth confused, lost in the mays /
Be's, be-not's, and haze of haaaaays /

The small-town gay predates the queer / 
As they were ours, then *they* were *here* /
The latter fled in face of fears /
The few who stayed became our peers.

-Charles Michael Averin