Part 1 - I Went Here First
Beyond past heartache
made the mistake of
setting my life up in
anticipation
of a future I could
only imagine.
There was no Now
only someday
instead of to-
day.
Up and moved myself in
preparation
of finality and existence.
Stubborn and naive
in my innocent belief.
Nineteen years old and
looking to settle down?
A sure sign of the
unsettling
to come.
Eventually relaxing
however uncomfortably
into
myself.
My own stillness
perpetuated
by me
in search of me
with myself,
for my-
self.
Came home in a
retreat
played a
recluse
for a year.
The New York Times
journal entries
and television
my only company
taking up my time.
Doing
gnawing on my cerebellum -
that part of my brain
responsible for
coordinating and regulating
muscular activity -
the act of doing
beyond
being.
Stillness only comes from
movement
therefore
movement from stillness
so up and mobile I became
got myself a
college degree
tucked in my back pocket
for those rainy day
blues
from the
howlin' fools
tryin' not to sing they
tune
is just a lighter shade of
robin's egg blue.
In the current flow of
livin' and lovin'
hipping and
hopping
shelving and re-
shelving
queer books of queer
chapters versing queer
sentences made of queer
words given meaning by queer
writers.
books by queer writers.
a queer writer
is me.
My story is
queer writer.
February 20, 2006