She takes off
all her clothes

just for
the fun of it

every now & then I
catch a glimpse

of naked ***

as it runs not here
or there but helter-skelter.

She who only
mastered the art of walking

not so long ago

now glorying
in her limbs.

'Hey Cherub! '
I call out to her

& she turns
& comes

not because she's
understood

but understands the love
dripping form the words

an honeycomb
of language.

She tries to clothe
the nakedness of her

experiences

in a dress
of words.

She is surprised
to find

that her
anabooboo

doesn't stick
to the cat

and the cat
wanders aimlessly off

discarding with disdain
her attempt

at naming him.

Soon the cat
will become its sound

(me! how?)

then finally
making it to being

C A T
(just like that) .

It's a long journey
into knowing.

I almost prefer
her almost Martian naming

her alien
way of seeing.

I curtly call the cat that
and even name the next cat that

an ANABOOBOO

and still can drive her
mad

years later
in a future far from here

calling my teenage
daughter

to say her date
is here.

'Hey Anabooboo! '

& see a blushing
Princess

descending the stairs

lithe of limb
and(thankfully)

fully clothed!



I draw/spell her
C/A/T
she copycats my cat



Teaching Tilly her letters in the long long ago...it's funny the little scraps that survive the years. I tore a bit off an old copy book and scribbled this C/A/T into being to her great delight...and here he is still prowling about in his own peculiar C/A/T way.

We all have a different story.
White male, sophomore says
His father told him all **** should be shot on site
So these words continue to constrict his neck like a noose
Making it impossible for him to breathe
Giving him no room to live
Like the conversion camp he was sent to over and over again
It leaves cuts that have yet to turn into scars.

We all have a different story.
White female, junior tells
How the emails kept popping up on her screen
Like unwanted blemishes that she could scrape off
One by one.
Church members chastising her
Because their favorite boy
Had just been accused of thrusting the life out of her
She is covered in "are you sure you weren't asking for it?"
She's sure.
Blood on her hands that spells out the word ****
And she lathers her body
Drowns herself in it
Until an unassuming girl is able to be her life preserver
But they still have to pretend to be
"Just friends"

We all have a different story.
Me?
So used to hearing
"You can't love both."
So used to hearing
"You can't even love yourself."
Now I live in a world
Where man, woman, no gender can love me
Because I make myself too prickly to touch
Whenever someone comes too close
I turn into a cactus
Because how could anyone possibly love someone
Who has been taken advantage so many times
That she cannot find it in her heart
To make love to someone
She has *** with them
But there is no love
But there is no passion at all.

We all have a different story.
Being queer in an evangelical community
Is like being raw meat
In a dog house.
They can smell you from a mile away
Ready for the ****
Do not stab your knife into me
In the kindest way you can think of
By telling me
"I'll pray for you."
Do not pour your poison into my body
By saying
"God loves the sinner but hates the sin."
My existence is no accident
My queerness is not my choice
You wonder why so many
Lesbian gay bisexual transgender questioning youth
Abandon the church?
It is not because of God
It is because these congregations keep playing God
This is the same **** story.
Do you know how hard it is the find an accepting church community?
It is a suicide mission
As I walk into the congregation
Arms open, eyes closed
Waiting to be embraced
Or shot on site.