Wednesday, April 13, 2011

To the Crossdresser at 20


Thank god for Prozac. Went cold for the better part of two weeks and kinda had an anxiety, well...shit...I guess... a gigantic expunging of neurotransmitters that had been pent up for so long....whew...anyhoo...back to normal operating levels...Happy National Poetry Month...the woman at the party is me...or us...or the speaker's female self.


To the Crossdresser at Twenty


The sunlight on the left side of your face
makes you look so pretty,
your hair a golden aura,
your skinny legs in ragged jeans.

The guitar will come late
to the party,
as will children,
and the kind of sanity
one only thinks one has a handle on.

Relax,
you're prone to clenching
your muscles so tight
your teeth grind at night.
You have been given the gift to rebirth yourself.
I have minor regrets.
Make your parties wild,
and large, and include yourself
in your own plots
to help others.
A little self mending never hurts.

You will attend meetings.
You will keep scratching
to make more of a life
out of beer cans
and note pads
and the hidden cache of clothes
and so many stacks of books.

Don't neglect the girl
at the party,
she will carry you when you cannot carry anything
other than syllables and apologies,
they are like paper lanterns in your hands,
the light flickering through your fingers,
the shadows, like jailed men
lean and swing in the thick summer air.

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