Golden Gate Operator Services—1983
When the first one came, I knew there would be more.
Some looking at the ground, some with plaintive eyes.
Some couldn’t ask, but when I took their hands
They felt the baby move and were so close to life.
Gifts and gladiolas, baby shower laughter.
A celebration of life.
Most were young, some beautiful, some funny, some kind.
Not the artists, not the famous, but the boys Foucault killed.
Some went home. Some stayed. And one went off the roof.
But one by one they were gone too far from life.
“Mom, what’s up with gays? It’s like they sniff me out.”
“And years ago they breathed you in and filled their lungs with life.”
Patricia McFarland has worked for major corporations for forty years. Her daughter Emily is twenty-seven.