i am a SWAT member
breaking in through the perfectly curated glass window
of a basement theatrette, a small bar off the main drag
more R-rated innuendos than you can possibly afford
metaphors about Napalm over my perfectly waxed butthole
agent orange up in my boy pussy
playing war games with straight men because I know what it is to dare to live
i am a vortex mega howler
flying through the air
screaming in free verse:
a drone strike with camp flair
all the while reckoning with the fact that
if the world is going to hate me for being queer
then I might as well make a weapon out of myself.
poetry for me is not so much of a liberation as it is delicious shrapnel
i can rip apart everything you think you know about me
and ungraciously throw it back
in your face.
i am a bejewelled finger hovering over the Big Red Button
a thousand words like cluster munitions threatening: “I’ll cut you up, bitch!”
vindictiveness, in this sense, then, is self-selecting
and so I’m left butt-fucking on a massive pile of Plutonium while Daddy Manhattan watches.
These are my unconditional terms of your surrender: no more dead faggots.
For too long your bookshelves have become a graveyard for our poets
the spines of each chapbook brilliant white bone –
Alice Dunbar Nelson (1935); Frank O’Hara (1966); Candy Darling (1974); Eric Emerson (1975); Crystal LaBeija (1982); Pauli Murray (1985); Jackie Curtis (1985); James Baldwin (1987); Jean-Michel Basquiat (1988); Venus Xtravaganza (1988); Jack Smith (1989); Keith Haring (1990); John Sex (1990); Arthur Russell (1992); Audre Lorde (1992); Angie Xtravaganza (1993); David Wojnarowicz (1992); Essex Hemphill (1995); Edward A. Lacey (1995); Herbert Huncke (1996); Ginsberg (1997); June Jordan (2002); Pepper LaBeija (2003); Willi Ninja (2006); Carmen Rupe (2011); Larry Kramer (2020)….
fuck me with your atom bomb
while improbably draped in an original Bob Mackie gown:
i am, like, totally covered with your sparks –
fireflies in the morning rain
and realising that that old dead faggot was onto something, y’know!
with one stilettoed heel in front of the other, He cries
I can walk!
I can walk!
Featured photo by Justus Menke on Unsplash.