Saturday, September 5, 2009

Letter Home

By M. Rich

What can I say. I've thought about it several times and I'm not really sure what to tell them though I'm certain they must wonder who these people are.
Reclaim the they, the them, the gender neutral, singular plural-"us"
We are strong willed and self-assured now willing to step up and Come out
To you the world has been full of misery
my friend they are more enthralled with mystery with the binary sexes and the non-conforming
Pre-tenses
I can relax now, shudders-- my back to the past and the cool wind chill
it's no ocean and no wonder I couldn't have,
I didn't come to tell you anything more different, a mere radical, a quivered lip bit and mouths closed
skin guarded
Chapped lips stay dry now for more than age's
a number, a lover, an arm caught beneath
since I can't remember
what he smelled like, what she tasted like
How they threw themselves and hurled towards me like cattle on a fresh cut grass field
where it did not belong
where I could not hear, taste, see or smell the cotton of my own shirt
the legacy of my mother's hurt tongue
tied down, wrapped up and wretched
symphonies proclaimed
They're sorry, she giggled and smiled at me
The next morning I bobbled my mind like an old figurine
I shuddered the thought and just like that my head
bounced up and down and side to side
a cock
to the left, and right!
I whispered aloud
glimmered, dulled down to that question:
Exactly how many are there of me?
And if I dare just leave it, we may as well lead
all you bored faced straight
suckers in all the good stuff
Like my non-conformative
so very gendered
and unresisted binding
to the boys and the girls I am screaming
Their only one request is that this exclude none of us.

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