Subtlety or Self-Censorship?

Currently I am engaged in producing a revised and expanded edition of my self-published poetry book, 'Where the Opium Cactus Grows'. In the original 2010 edition, I sometimes dealt with some embarrassing words and phrases from my older poetry, written in my Youthful Marxist Phase, by frank self-censorship.

In the revised edition, I am generally restoring the original forms. But sometimes, the choice between an older version and a newer one is not so simple. Like in the poem currently called 'undercover'.  Here it is:

undercover

they cant really tell with my clothes on
i think
them nasty
jokes wouldnt keep on coming if
they knew
i think
if i told them they'd say
you dont really look it
i think
then they'd look very close
because they're sure you can tell
     its the eyebrows george says
     you can tell them by the eyebrows


This poem expresses the experience of a person who feels like an outcast, who wonders if others know the secret thing that makes her an outcast. We don't know, in this version, what kind of outcast the speaker feels herself to be, and so we can't really evaluate if it is something that others really could detect.

The original version, which will be given below, is not subtle at all. It tells what kind of difference we are talking about right in the title. And so, perhaps, persons who otherwise might sympathize with the speaker of this version of the poem might not with the speaker of the original version.

The newer version, thus, may have wider appeal. But is it because of self-censorship--- or, perhaps even cowardice? Am I afraid to speak out on what the poem is really about, and be rejected by people I respect because of it?  I will give you the original version, below a break (you will have to click on 'Read more' to see it.)


undercover lesbian

they cant really tell with my clothes on
i think
the faggot & dyke
jokes wouldnt keep on coming if
they knew
i think
if i told them they'd say
you dont really look it
i think
then they'd look very close
because they're sure you can tell
     its the eyebrows george says
     you can tell them by the eyebrows


There's a little personal story behind this poem. When I was in high school, and long before I began to seriously think about topics such as my own sexual orientation, if any, I had two persecutors who rode by on their bikes every day as I walked to school. They threw rocks at me and called me a lesbian--- the first time I had ever heard that word spoken out loud. When they boys were finally identified, I was called with them into the principal's office and had to sit there while he expressed some sympathy with the boys, who, in his opinion, were provoked by the 'strange' way I dressed. (I wore informal long dresses to school while most of the girls wore miniskirts and halter tops.)

When later I finally admitted to myself that my orientation was less than heterosexual, it made me wonder if somehow those boys long ago had actually known something about me that I hadn't then known myself. Which brings up fears--- what stuff do other people, even strangers, just know about me that I don't even know myself?

The original version of the poem is less subtle, less universal--- does that make it stronger or weaker? It's hard to tell, really. The specifics on the original poem mean that the reaction of readers will be all caught up in their feelings about gay people, and the current social requirement that one either accept gay marriage as a governmental sacrament or be cast into the outer darkness.

I think the poem is about more than that single issue. The character speaking in the poem would not be in the least reassured if people told her 'no, dear, we don't care that you are a lesbian, we despise you because you are Catholic, or Jewish, or have an autism spectrum disorder, or wear an overly modest dress, or speak Esperanto in public....'

So, with much trepidation, I am asking for input. Which version of the poem do you think is more compelling and why? If I get more than seven intelligent responses (excluding spam and hate comments, in other words), I will take them under consideration in deciding which version of the poem will be included in the new Opium Cactus.  (I also could use a little feedback on the book title: should I stick with 'Where the Opium Cactus Grows' or prune it to 'Opium Cactus'?)

This post has been shared on Poetry Pantry #142