Posts for June 15, 2020 (page 4)

So, you know how just 5 years ago, they allowed us to start getting married? Well now, ANYWHERE in the WHOLE country, they can’t fire us from our job for being queer. No, they can still deny to help us if we go to the hospital. Yeah, the doctor can say they won’t treat us just because they don’t like our clothes or mommy’s girlfriend. The tow truck driver can drive off and leave us there stranded even if we can pay. The photographer. The waiter. The bank teller. Just about everyone can deny us help unless their company or the town protects us, and here in Kentucky, there’s not a lot of that.  So yes, they can kick us out of stores. Yes, they can still use Jesus to keep us out of clubs at school. I know, it’s a public school, but they can. It’s their “freedom of religion,” which is more important than our right to be free FROM their religion, I guess. I’ve always heard Jesus was a nice guy. I don’t think he’d be happy that the bookstore owner kicked us out to prove she was a good Christian. I don’t think Jesus would be happy the shelter makes people sleep on the street instead of the open beds because of an outfit. Yes, they can still keep us from adopting babies or even adopting dogs if they don’t like that we’ve changed our name and pronoun. Yes, they can still refuse to rent us an apartment. No, the schools don’t have to teach anything about our lives or our people’s history. They don’t have to acknowledge intersex biology even exists. They don’t have to use the name you want. Yes, dress codes and bathroom rules can still control and misgender you and yes, they can deny you taking your date to prom. No, it only means we can now work a job without being fired for being queer. But no, no one has to be nice to us. No, they don’t even have to be fair.

To be alone
To connect

To go somewhere
To go nowhere

To greet the morning birds
To see the stars 

To remember
To forget

To breathe
To move
To stay sane
To survive

GOD’S ETERNAL SOUL

For You…

Undertow of grey
sky pulls viewer’s
eye upwards
over Notre-Dame
& green trolley
over flower cart capped
with crest of carnations
& amber light
of confectioner’s shop
over the man in the mud-
brown jacket & woman
in ant-black coat.  

Rain spatter flushes cloud-
stone-wheel-wood-petal-
window-pedestrian
with an opal
brilliance.                                          

~inspired by Edouard Léon Cortes’ (1882-1969) “Notre-Dame, Paris”

This summer
I am haunted
By the ghosts of summers past. 

Echoes of waves,
Salt water drying
Sticky on my skin. 
Hammock ropes digging
Into my arms and legs. 
Showering outside-
The freedom
Of being naked outdoors
But still hidden,
Sunshine on skin that never sees it. 

Deep night in the country. 
Stars brighter than you ever expect
Insects and bullfrogs louder 
Than you ever remember
When you leave
The noise and light pollution
Of the city behind. 

Summer present is
Masks and people
Too far away to hug. 

I’ll have to wait for
Summers future
Before I’m free of ghosts again. 

Nag a bit more about
the nest on my head,
the baggy fit of my tee,
the scuffs and mysterious
blue stain on my white sneaks

Bother me some about
the polite way to offer an
insightful opinion or,
better yet,
the perfectly proper closed mouth

Offer your incredibly poised justification as to how
the obsequious nature of girlishness,
so called Southern Charm,
is distinguished from servitude

This book, this pocket guide
on being a lady, 
is useless to me

I’m a woman

No less than those
righteously prim mannequins
painfully described on pages
that make better kindling than content 

That’s just my unruly opinion

Does this come with a gift receipt?

The baby looked hard at the sky–a smoky purple,
thin reddish clouds passing fast—
she peered, she stared, aghast, and rapt at
an evening something I couldn’t see.  

Don’t concentrate your finger curl at me
because I am not an obedient house pet.

I cannot be fixed, willed, or trained.

What kind of animal am I?

One that conceals herself in thick summer brush,
and observes your exaggerated movements.

A seductive beast whose silent stealth and stalk
shake the dirt beneath your weak walk.

An animal who, upon instinct,
selects the precise moment when you think you’ve made the catch,
to leap through the air 
gnash at your naked neck,
puncture your putride pride,
lick your bones clean
and bury your fingers,
so you know that I am not at all as I seem.  

She signed me up
for swim lessons,
Pine Lakes Swim Club,
Saturday morning
instead of cleaning house
and other chores.
She drove me
past Bernice’s garden center,
past the old Acme,
and past the liquor store
where she bought
bottles of Thunderbird
in grassy-green bottles.

We called it a swim club,
but it was nothing more 
than a lake with a ring of sand,
and a couple of diving boards.
I was the oldest kid in the class,
conscious of my hand-me-down suit
tight around the legs,
which ballooned out like sausages, 
all pink and puffy,
and my curly hair stuffed
into a rubber bathing cap
barely able to contain it.

I really tried to listen to the instructor,
but all I could hear was my heart
breaking across the water
and the lapping of shame in my ears.

                                    –a found poem

Dear friends and colleagues:
I retired after a lifetime teaching at the University.
Are there any available rights or privileges for retirees?
Use of an office? Library? Parking? Computer?

I have been served notice to turn in my keys on January 6.
Moving books and papers out of my office
with such short notice seems mean-spirited to me.

Dear professor:
The University, in recognition of substantial and sustained
contributions to academic disciplines and to the University,
may grant the title “Emeritus” to persons meeting

the qualifications set forth in the policy.
Conferring of Emeritus is not automatic upon retirement
and may be conferred only upon approval

through the process described in the policy.
The Emeritus understands that there is no renumeration
received by the holder of the title.