We live in a homophobic culture, and even
people who aren’t hateful per se assume they won’t get anything from a queer
book.
NOTE:
At the moment I am not interested in embarrassing anybody; at the moment
I am only interested in making crystal fucking clear that I am getting pretty
fucking tired of a certain behavior, which is the basis of this ritual and its
resulting poem.
To preserve my friendships I have quietly –
and for decades – occasionally allowed my heterosexual friends to change the
subject when I would be furious about homophobic and transphobic laws. It did not happen too often and I have always
been aware that my queer actions and ideas are too radical for most lesbians
and gays, let alone straight people in our culture. For instance when president Obama signed the
repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell it
was to me the end of any hope of a radical queer insertion into the demented
white hetero power structure of the USA and the rise of total lesbian and gay
assimilation into our nation’s racist, brutal military industrial complex. When lesbians and gays were celebrating and
cheering that day I considered it the darkest possible compromise and the most
unforgivable one at that with multiple wars underway, killing children of color
in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Yemen, on and on we marched.
And I said NOTHING with words, saving that
for now, in this ritual for all to read.
I was just SLICING my nails into my palms, a reflection of their
thoughtless, stupid remarks. SLICING my
way into feeling it on my flesh. I took
notes for the poem while staring into the indentations, while tasting the blood
that broke through, while closing my eyes and rubbing my cheek and chin into
it. I will desecrate the monotheistic
tools of repression and I will do it without fear of reprisal because I give a
damn, because I Love this world!
