Friday Nite Poetry: Who I Am

I had a fantastic time in Auburn last night, reading in front of roughly one hundred strangers. I was a little worried, reading as much about the trans experience, as well as some other deeply personal stuff, that it might come off self-absorbed. I was worried that the audience would be unready to hear what I had to share but they so proved me wrong. Maybe I am a bit narcissistic, but there is something about genuine expressions of love from complete strangers, people who come to you and say you moved something in them, that can make a bad week good. Anyway, it got me wanting to write more trans* poetry, so here you go. Oh, and thanks again to Bill and Lisa, and everyone else at Aaduna, and to my dear friend Christine Green for introducing us.

Casting Dice

Pacing the narrow confines
of the identity you leave to me
femme or butch
but little inbetween

I am not your shemale
I am not you tranny surprise
I am me
a person whole and realized
refusing to be shackled
to your furious beat

I decide who I am
and who I am to you
savior or slut
that is my call
I am not on your dime
unless that is my choice

Hate me
berate me
or make me your merit badge
it is all one
and it is all nothing

I take what I can
from my past
from my present
and paint it thick
and scrape it off

Just two sides
on an infinite die
cast every interaction
and re-rolled when needs be
as often as I can

Go ahead and play me
but you play yourself
and everyone else
when you treat us all like coins


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