Ajax Kallistrate

when annihilation changes
the equation and unnumbered
pinion feathers no longer
uplift the soul but
pierce the heart
and set it
adrift in
a foreign
body as joy
melts in
the mouth
of grief
and the future
thins into trans-
parency invisibil-
ity disappear-
ing into an endless
inescapable present
a wheel that spins and
spins until everything looks
the same until there is no refuge
for a refugee until there is
no exit except the last
exit until the beam
shifts and the
calculation
corrects
itself
and
some
one
some
where is
lost.

March 29, 2021

King Lear's fundamental flaw was never
pride. nor arrogance. nor vanity.
it was only that he was a man
who had grown old.

no one needed him.

not his wives, who were dead. nor
his daughters, who were married or
about to marry. not even his country,
whose reins he was entrusting to
younger men.

King Lear had become superfluous.
a man who was no longer
a man.

until that final moment, when
he was granted one last chance
to shine as a father,
as a king,
as a man.

and failed.

March 29, 2021

the sun broke through gray clouds
for the space of three breaths
i looked up
i felt looked upon
acknowledged
visible
for the space of three months
i will not soon
forget

March 26, 2021

Bless
ed atheist child

less mother un
amazonian leather

ized vegan andro
romantic dyke

chic metal
step Shakespeare re

mix minimum wage
gap ex

feminist none
binary former

trans
monster

hunter
cat

lady

fabulous

(identity)

free

freak

in forty
seven

different
flavors.

March 19, 2021

i stand at the vanishing point i
disappear inside pitted angles of
straight lines i can't grasp the
traps my involuntary skin pinched
across a blush
a
splash
a crease
seeps
between
lips that
speak in unending
silence a red ring of
bull's eye!
furrow
untorn
unseamed
a pool's heart in
sticky winter a
brass echo of
copper after-
taste in
yellow sunlight

little.
yellow.

narrow legs
   and
gym socks
running
   out
cut away
spine
knuckles
knee caps
elementary organs
bottled
labeled
compartmental-
analyzed
sealed
sifted
severed
tendon
bone
eyelash
remade in the after-
image of some afarensis gorgon
grass eater
dragging scarlet
fleece with
clipped finger-
tip nerve
endings a
stunted
breathless
hollow a
quiet space
between unwanted
angles as
straight
lines
disappear
into
silent
footfalls
in the wet
night.

March 18, 2021

bright morning walking
soaring i see you
taking wing your
solid footsteps on
concrete high above those
of ordinary men in
your voice in the tiniest
tip of your finger
surpassing by a giant's leap
the modern day's diluted
definition of 
courage in
your eyes in
your bootlaces in
every word
you speak
every word
you write
every quiet
contemplative moment
on your walk to work on
a bright morning
you will soar
you will take
wing

March 12, 2021

vivid is may
all those
five
point
five
years
ago.
layered over now
with flowers enameled
to a hard polish.
my life. the life i built.
i couldn't scratch the
surface of yours not with
my bone brittle finger-
nails.
i tried.
i daydreamed. could
i belong? could
i be a part of your
family? odd as
i am? as unlike you as
i am? your answer
blew cold in every
direction, every shutting
down, every shutting
out.

i can't belong if
i don't conform if
i can't stay silent if
i don't mouth the party
line. welp. i
couldn't i
wouldn't i
didn't 

and

you turned that
label inside
out. who am i?
nothing of yours.

i won't be cruel.
i won't be bitter.
you were right about
some things. there wasn't
enough love there for me.

my friends say not to think
about what you might say if
you could see what i've built,
who and how i love, where i work,
what i do. why should your opinion matter?

you summed it up in that ice
blue icing, written in those
whorled words, you're

you wrote

'You're a
shitty
sister.'

most people, i think, are born into their
families. the rest of us have to find them.

i found mine.

who's to say

who has the luckier
heart?

March 11, 2021

i'm the dandelion of
empty buses and
mildewed picnic tablecloths the

butter yellow polka dotted
dust storm side-eye in
winter boots on the
first of July the

milk-beaded hollow of one
million individual hairs sliding
like copper rods through balding
half-moon fingernails the

smeary grass-stained window
flash of rubberized earth-
worm ribbons the

five-finger pixie parachute
in the porch roof gutter
clog the

solitary sunny none
flower of ragged
brittle lady
balm the

brainless lion's
nodding noggin the

headless high
king's skinned
knees the

bare maraschino
in the

done
day.

March 5, 2021

dogwood simple as
a dog rose old
ivory burnt
crumpled
apple green
eye on the
understory
parasol filtered
sunbeam
milk yellow
gray sketch of
finger
branches fine
and gracile
upraised be-
neath sky high
tulip and sycamore
alone with airy hemlock
and box over nurseries of
oak and maple and a much loved
neighbor of spring cherries
and wild grape in a skirt
of cabbage and woodsy
winterberry hiding
dogwood's secret
in the leathery
promise of
orchids.

February 25, 2021

what's your gender
fender bender?

what's your
pro-
nouns? your
post-
modern
apocalyptic
triptych
she-heeeee
her him thay
what are you
GAAAAAAY?

bendy
enby
all in
outtie

i got a mister sir
with hippy dippy
long hair
and hips i
couldn't hide in
baggy pants

i got a Real Woman
screaming at me in
a bathroom (excuse
me) a ladies room
'cause i failed
that defining
definition of
WOMANHOOD in
all three
dimensions

i got a father a
brother a sister a
friend a stranger
a whole army
saying man man man
aren't you a
lesbiAN?

butch i'm no butch
it's a trademarked
subculture i've got
no business never
minding
and

any-
who spends a year
shuffling paperwork to
become a nobody by
another name? a
funny name is
that your REAL
name? are
you
a
real
person?

a woman a
man?

a somebody to
anybody out
there?

don't accommodate
me i'm no
pussy call me
he she her him hi hello
Hiawatha
call me Al
call me a monkey's
uncle nobody calls
me aunt any-
more

i'm me meaning
nothing symbolizing
nothing representing
nothing for forty-
seven
years of
trans verse
psychosis
between body and
boy-woman-girl-man

an ugly compromise
hiding an
inner oasis of
self-
love and

peace

i'm not here
to play politics or
pound a square peg into
a see-man-tic
merry-go-round

i'm not here
to demand you
understand

i'm not like
you

i'm not like
them

i've got what i want
i'm who i want
to be

i'll die
knowing i
never wanted
to change

one

damn

thing.

February 24, 2021