THE BRAINLESS CORPSE IN VELVET
HANA, PTS. 1-3
I
i recently got asked if i was transitioning
i thought it was pretty funny
it was one of those things where it was like
damn, do i really come off that way?
i knew i was kinda girly
but it's not like im a woman or anything, gosh
i'm supposed to be guapo
a strong young family muchacho
deviation is ungodly
so i guess i'm the devil
i'm not really sorry
for not being the romanticized
ideal man of my people,
with unkempt hair, glasses,
and a skinny frame
i won't promise to be better
but this ability to deviate from nature
is a gift from god
and i'm not going to waste it
on being who i am not.
what's nurture to the clouds?
and what are those clouds to me?
just rain
let these colors bloom under gray illinois skies
/
II
this banana is my sexuality
blackened, rotting, somewhat unwanted
overripe, as if it were always there
begging for me to finally acknowledge it
i wonder if the serpent tempted Eve with one of these
this banana is my desire.
hana the hobo would be proud.
nowadays I think of it and feel a lil mushy.
blackened, rotten, somewhat unwanted
But there's always something to like.
“Todavia ‘sta bueno.”
-My Dad
/
III
Falling from grace into a cotton candy lake,
The shapeshifting umbrella over the beach,
It was never really up to me, was it?
The beautiful Woman, not at all dressed for the occasion
Crispy sands beneath her, sapphire waves, rosy seafoam
Flamboyant, unapologetically crystallized,
Criticized, criss crossed into her current form, she smiles.
She knows something I don't, up and up she rises,
As water fills my lungs, crashing inside of me
Through the black mire murk lurks that Man
Tip toes on the pink defiance above me as if it were solid,
Marionette of the Sun that conceived him, not quite so bright,
His eternal ballet begins,
Grateful is the Man, who keeps the strings.
Graceful is the Man who dances a step to his own song.
I weep,
My tears red and
Viscous, begging not to mix with the
Water that burns itself into me, eyes closed,
By force, it changes me, and I only have
The Man and the Woman to trust.
I swim upward, praying for
Their responses, so I may
Justify who I am,
But there's only
The sight of their last dance,
Their graceful marriage,
Their love for me,
Their love for each other,
Their love for being alive.
I weep,
This time, tears of joy,
Moved upward to see their glory,
The Sun and Moon above me,
They don't know if they approve or not.
The Man and the Woman approach me,
Smiling, they pull me out of the lagoon,
One with the water, and my eyes light up.
They were always the same.
And they both look like me.