Tonight's Poet Corner: To Ethan Galloway
To Ethan Galloway by Belinda Roddie You meant so much to me. You were the vibrant addition to my stilted reality, and the harbinger of my homosexuality. Ethan Galloway. You had that name because it fit you, and also because, if I had been you, it would have fit me to a tee. You got the chance to speak in a charming, rugged Scottish brogue as an exchange student at an all-American high school, and later, an all-American university. You were the epitome of the cool European, somehow gaining a bad boy reputation while breaking exactly zero percent of the rules. And you were quite the looker, too. You had beautiful brown hair with all the right curls. You made a T-shirt and torn jeans look like the sweetest wardrobe in the world, and you could play every single instrument, and well, too. Now, of course, by "every single instrument," I mean the popular ones, like guitar, and piano, and drums, and maybe bass, too, because as we all know, sometimes it&