A poem named 'misunderstanding' by Thomas Rogers Muyunga Mukasa

This here is Crawford, says Lincoln
Is he a rapper too?, I ask ponderously
No, he is gay, Lincoln says.
Then let him get on stage too, I command.
No, you don't understand, Lincoln blames me.
How is that? I ask.
He is gay, Lincoln speaks louder.
Then let him dress in a subtle way,I advise.
No, not his dressing, Lincoln interjects.
Then what? I ask incredulously.
He sleeps with men, Lincoln asserts.
In bed? I ask.
Yes, Lincoln answers.
Come on where do we all sleep? I ask flabbergasted.
Get him on the stage, I  say again this time forcefully.
No, you don't get it. Lincoln stubbornly objects.
He is a fag, he continues.
What is that ? I ask
A person who is you know... Lincoln whispers.
A lad? A fad? But that is fashionable, I continue.
Sssh! Don't talk so loud, Lincoln speaks conspiratorially looking left, right ,center.
He is gay, Lincoln insists.
If he insists on dressing smart so be it,I finally say.

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