October 24, 2022

i wonder
if my mother
would have been great
at getting my pronouns
right

would she have stood up for me
at family gatherings
corrected people
when i wasn’t near
would she have been
the ally
i needed
to come out
with a bang
instead of this subtle
exhausting
whispered
coming out
over
and over
and over
again
every time
a ‘she’ is uttered
or a ‘ladies’ is announced
or any of those microaggressions
my gender dysphoria
insists
are actual aggression

i don’t know
i wish i knew
but i really don’t

she was an ally of all queer folks she knew
(I know 100% she’d have been to my wedding
would have celebrated like the world was ending
when she knew mine was just beginning
because that’s just the way she was)
but gender is somehow harder
and the in-between confuses even the best
of allies
and i don’t want to put her up on a pedestal
nor do i want to underestimate her devotion
to a me she never got to see

i only knew her for eleven and three quarters years
and i have memories of less
she is both the person i was closest to
and the biggest mystery of my life

and i just wish
i could guess
what it would be like
to have her
stand up
for me

October 22, 2022

Fauci Ouchie
Rounds One and Two
were
adventures

i didn’t really write
about Booster 1
(would that be Fauci Ouchie Round Three?)
because
i actually felt that one
(just extreme tiredness,
but still)
and
things started opening up
too early
just like i foresaw
and getting the boosters felt
like a civic duty
and the least i could do
and everything
and nothing
and knowing
people weren’t doing it
just felt
like too
much

but now
i’ve Booster-ed twice–
Four Rounds
of Fauci Ouchies–
and i expect to get exhausted
and i expect to feel all the feels
and getting this was a hassle and a half
but there’s no way
i wouldn’t do it
because it isn’t about me
it was never about me
this is about
those folks
who can’t
and those folks
who remain sheltering in place
as people and corporations and governments
alike
decide
any life
is an
“acceptable loss”
and normies decided
that going back to ‘normal’
is better
(and easier)
than what we could be doing–
finding
something
different
and better
for everyone
(as we endure
the global pandemic
that is
STILL
raging)

(and in case you haven’t caught on
from how i put it in the words before
this little parenthetical here,
this poem is about
disabled people,
immunocompromised people,
chronically and currently ill people,
and people who don’t fit our society’s
very limited
standards of
“normal”
who deserve
all the accessibility
that we can ever
give them)

October 21, 2022

i think
the reason
i enjoy organizing books
and tangible things
for fun
is the same reason
i can’t seem
to organize
my digital
life

physicality is separate
from me
from my mind
so i have some semblance
of control
over
it

virtual
online
digital
means to an end
end up emulating
what my brain is doing
so disorganization
is the only way i
survive

(i wish
there was another
way to
thrive)

October 20, 2022

words are unworthy
of the emotions of tragedy

they cheapen the expanse of feeling
to two-dimensional digestion
for others’ entertainment

but words are all i have
and my brain tends to forget how to feel
in these moments anyway

so while my mind starts in on the journey
of comprehension
before my heart catches up
(which’ll be in a day or two or three
i expect)
i’ll say the only words
that keep coming up
and up again

i hope (and believe) you knew you were so loved
and say hello to Lynnette for all of us, please
and we still believe
in The Power
Of Good

October 19, 2022

had big enough feels
to feel the need
to express it
sans poetry
via prose
and who knows
how that ended up
but i might re-read
and edit
and submit it
at a later date
so folks who might not know
start to understand
how emotional labor
takes its
toll

October 17, 2022

not feeling
anything
(writing
listing
poetry-ing)

was i this
lost
this time
last
year?

~~~

trying
to writing
with songs with words

we’ll see how this goes

~~~

was music all i needed
for me to feel like
this is a real morning???

October 16, 2022

a word
to those
who misgender:

if we stop correcting you
it does not mean
it’s all right

in fact
the opposite
is true;

it hits us
hard
each time
to the point
where
we simply
shut down.

the energy to stand up for oneself
drains more and more
each instance