slam dunk

 

i roll a basketball towards you

    slowly

michael jordan is slicing honeydew in the other room

the cicadas are screaming

    the sidewalks turn to sand

i leave the porch light on

    the mat says WE’LL COME HOME

the leaves catch fire

    i set the table wrong

the chandelier is on fire and

    you’re still here

         you haven’t left

    the keys press themselves

the dog growls at the windowsill

you take off your socks and

your feet stick to the floor

    your green eyes turn gold

the peonies are covered in ants

    so we bring them inside

​






 

bodily D.I.Y.

 

not WRONG BODY

but GROWN BODY

the same

just rearranged

 

i’m changing a tire in the driveway

performing masculinity

for the neighbours to see

 

embodying possibilities

with my homemade corporeality

 

referencing judith butler

so i can talk about gender

without plagiarizing myself

 

am i always going to feel this?

 

tugging my shirt

as if i will somehow be boy

 

growing my hair

as if i will somehow be girl

 

carrying myself

as though

i am

no longer

weighed down

 

carrying the weight of

my iPhone

autocorrecting

HRT to HURT

 

i wonder what Apple is trying to tell me

about bodily becoming