Bubble Boy

The girls would razz “You never smile”
Though warmth was in his eyes
Alright.  And when they sought
To peg his type they dubbed him “Bubble Boy”
For kicks.  “What isolates you,
Bubble Boy,” they’d laugh.
Is it love?—we have a little cure for that
To bring you back to planet us
And kissed him on the lips and cheek.
“Oh,” said Bubble Boy with stolid face
And not a trace of smile.
“Well, we give up,” the girls said, flustered.
“Time to pass you to the boys.”
The boys piled on with whip and fists
“Bubble Boy! You cut that preacher act!
Though later in the hallway, sheepish,
One approached him guilty faced.
“Bubble Boy,” he said, with pain,
“I didn’t mean to hit you hard.
Maybe it would help to know
If you are gay, so am I.”
“Thank you, “Bubble Boy replied.
“But at the moment unprofound.”
Everyone was flustered now—
The girls, the boys, the teachers too
“Bubble Boy, your stuck-up prude!
By what right this holy perch!”
But Bubble Boy stayed cool to it:
“Death is not a hula hoop.  Some
Toys take longer to outgrow.
The time will come when only I
Feel your life or love you more,”
He smiled.

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