to rest
or to rest
or to rest
or to chore
or to work
(it wouldn’t be the question
had we rested yesterday
but the house
and the march
were well worth it.)
poem
June 27, 2021 (part 2), or: on Pride
i’ve been involved
in many a Pride:
marching in the parade,
spectating,
only coming for the afterparty,
staying late,
leaving early,
volunteering,
forgoing because of work,
forgoing because of travel,
forgoing because of emotions,
huge Prides,
tiny Prides,
side Prides,
marching,
listening,
shouting,
chanting…
i’ve been lucky
to learn
beforehand
what i needed to know
to appreciate
each message,
each Pride.
i was introduced
through friends,
chosen family,
strangers,
the internet,
leaders,
who really was Marsha P. Johnson,
and i listened to Sylvia Rivera call us all out,
i learned of the sit-ins,
and the die-ins,
Act-Up,
papier mâché,
the quilt,
what Leather Daddies
and Dykes on Bikes
gave to the communities,
Stormé DeLarverie,
and so many more
i’m still learning about,
and even more
still unnamed
still faceless
who gave me the right
to fight for others’ rights
today
and i hope we continue to march,
that instead of forgoing Pride for comfort
we forgo Pride for Queer Liberation,
or at least include Queer Liberation
inside our Pride.
that we continue to march
for Black lives,
for Trans lives
for Black Trans lives
for a free Palestine
for disability rights
for a Pride
that supports us all;
sans cops
sans rainbow capitalism
supporting what Pride originally stood for
(not because i want to go back,
but because we really cannot go forward
until we are all truly free.)
June 27, 2021
two weeks
in and out
a perpetual
Go
Go
Go
from New York
to Maryland
(to Adelphi, to Baltimore, to Ocean City, to Frederick, to DC)
to New York
to Upstate
(to Batavia, to Byron, to Elba, to Waterport)
to New York
and now
are we still
Go…Go…?
from Brooklyn
to the Bronx
to Manhattan
and back
and back
and back?
or is there a moment
of rest
to recover
(or is the rest
also going to be
from bedroom
to Zoom
to Zoom
to Zoom
continually
ad infinitum
and on and on and on?)
June 26, 2021 (part 2)
i hope
when i die
the memories can be joyous
and my stuff not just stuff
and that rainbows
are the dress code
for a day
(or two)
June 26, 2021
Morning Pages
but in the evening?
[how gauche]
June 25, 2021 (part 2)
the tears
come in waves
like the grey/white/foam
the boat rocking
our grief
and joy
and stress
and discomfort
and we simply wish to be
together.
June 25, 2021
coffee beats
caffeine beats
coffee beans
coffee club
caffeine caffeine
(will there ever be a time
that covfefe might be an adorable memory from the past
instead of the trigger
it is now?)
(doubtful)
~~~
my head is pounding
from my sinuses
to…the rest of my body
(all from my sinuses)
(my sinuses are fully to blame)
and i’m blaming my sinuses
also
for not feeling
quite
fully
awake.
~~~
are these half-asleep
ramblings
the things
i really want in my poetry blog?
(when haven’t they been?)
June 24, 2021
those who
decide to
or decide not to
have actually made a decision
those of us who
stay in the middle
are doomed to
stay in the middle
~~~
it’s always interesting
to be clued into
another family’s drama.
i’ve only ever been privy
to a few sets of families
but whenever it happens
i feel like an uninvited audience member
to a preview
where the actors aren’t ready
and break character
more than they stay in
and no matter how much i try to tell myself
they’ve invited me here
i’m a part of the family now
i’ve married in
legally
i’m in
i still can’t help
but feel as though
i’m
intruding.
~~~
now i’m becoming worried
of writing too much
of being too real
too honest
for this little experimental experiment blog
when
when
when
did i switch from feeling too fake
and too impersonal
and wanting to be more honest?
[is it just the subject matter i’m worried about???]
June 23, 2021 (part 2)
wake
car
pack
car
breakfast
car
stop
car
gas
car
stretch
car
snacks
car
hotel
car
family
dogs
play
talk
food
campfire
memories
people
car
tired
sleep
June 23, 2021
another adventure
another setting out
this time for something
not quite as happy
but hopefully fulfilling
and connecting
and kind.
~~~
there are studies
that show
the earlier you deal with death
the better
(or so much worse)
you are at handling any death
as an adult.
i solidly fall into the second category,
my brain short circuiting whenever death is present
whenever someone is grieving
my go-to comfort is
to leave them alone.
but when you’re not a pre-teen
figuring out exactly what you need,
most folks would opt for connection
for a few words of comfort
not alone time.
so
after months of watching back episodes of
“Ask a Mortician”
and
reading her books
and
listening to her podcast
i’ve figured out a better way of dealing with death:
i ask the grieving person
what their favorite memory is of their loved one.
i specify they don’t have to share with me,
(but i’d be happy to hear if they choose),
but to simply think of their favorite memory.
i’ve only had two opportunities to use it so far,
but both felt connective,
kind,
and i felt useful
(all i really want to feel anyway)
so,
anyone grieving,
(or having gone through grief),
what’s your favorite memory of that person?
~~~
our dog
staring at her food
for minutes upon minutes
as if she’s having an existential crisis
(what a way for the universe to show us she belongs with us)
kipventures 