she stomps, she pouts
fists a-shakin and skirts a-blazin
while she laughs like a cuckoo bird
“caca — hahahaha” she cries,
30 second poem written for my soulmate.
Who are we to judge?
Forget the images you’ve learned to attach
To words like cock and clit,
Chest and breasts.
Break those words open
Like a paramedic cracking ribs
To pump blood through a failing heart.
Push your hands inside.
Get them messy.
Scratch new definitions on the bones.
Get rid of the old words altogether.
Make up new words.
Call it a click or a ditto.
Call it the sound he makes
When you brush your hand against it through his jeans,
When you can hear his heart knocking on the back of his teeth
And every cell in his body is breathing.
Make the arch of her back a language
Name the hollows of each of her vertebrae
When they catch pools of sweat
Like rainwater in a row of paper cups
Align your teeth with this alphabet of her spine
So every word is weighted with the salt of her.
When you peel layers of clothing from his skin
Do not act as though you are changing dressings on a trauma patient
Even though it’s highly likely that you are.
Do not ask if she’s “had the surgery.”
Do not tell him that the needlepoint bruises on his thighs look like they hurt
If you are being offered a body
That has already been laid upon an altar of surgical steel
A sacrifice to whatever gods govern bodies
That come with some assembly required
Whatever you do,
Do not say that the carefully sculpted landscape
Bordered by rocky ridges of scar tissue
Looks almost natural.
If she offers you breastbone
Aching to carve soft fruit from its branches
Though there may be more tissue in the lining of her bra
Than the flesh that rises to meet itLet her ripen in your hands.
Imagine if she’d lost those swells to cancer,
A car accident instead of an accident of genetics
Would you think of her as less a woman then?
Then think of her as no less one now.
If he offers you a thumb-sized sprout of muscle
Reaching toward you when you kiss him
Like it wants to go deep enough inside you
To scratch his name on the bottom of your heart
Hold it as if it can-
In your hand, in your mouth
Inside the nest of your pelvic bones.
Though his skin may hardly do more than brush yours,
You will feel him deeper than you think.
Realize that bodies are only a fraction of who we are
They’re just oddly-shaped vessels for hearts
And honestly, they can barely contain us
We strain at their seams with every breath we take
We are all pulse and sweat,
Tissue and nerve ending
We are programmed to grope and fumble until we get it right.
Bodies have been learning each other forever.
It’s what bodies do.
They are grab bags of parts
And half the fun is figuring out
All the different ways we can fit them together;
All the different uses for hipbones and hands,
Tongues and teeth;
All the ways to car-crash our bodies beautiful.
But we could never forget how to use our hearts
Even if we tried.
That’s the important part.
Don’t worry about the bodies.
They’ve got this.
We are millennium babies. We have been able to witness the booming, stupefying, exponential growth of technology before our eyes. Remember when computers were only desktops? When videos could only be watched on VCR? When we used floppy disks to save things, which only had enough room for a few Word files?
The world is changing before our eyes. The Internet is connecting the world in ways never before seen. Piracy is becoming the commonplace, accepted way of sharing media, yet the people leading its cause are still getting locked up, because governments haven’t quite caught up yet or figured out how to deal with this issue. Take The Pirate Bay founders, or Julian Assange of Wikileaks. Our time is the digital age, the information age. It is only going to keep expanding, and FAST.
In the midst of all this exponential growth, we still have huge numbers of the developing world’s populations that are living on subsistence, who are not connected to the rapidly evolving technologies that are launching industrialized countries further and further into the future. The income disparity between the poorest and the richest people in the world is at its all time max. We have so much knowledge and so much power these days. We can undoubtedly bring the Earth to a new era in our lifetime.