What Dark Tastes Like and Other Poems
What Dark Tastes Like
Did we want to be boys? Shirtless
we dug a trench in my backyard—
we had ski poles, a tarp, a plan
to meet the forecast’s tornado
warning with our lean muscled
bodies, breastless. What are you
warning with our lean muscled
bodies, breastless. What are you
boys doing the passerby-stranger called
out, and we winked, swelled. Proud?
We practiced kissing, not each other
out, and we winked, swelled. Proud?
We practiced kissing, not each other
but giant stuffed bears—one
for each in the darkened bedroom.
I never grew out of it, the blurred
for each in the darkened bedroom.
I never grew out of it, the blurred
edge of gender, the freedom
of in-between, both, neither. Tomboy
sounds old-fashioned now. Now
of in-between, both, neither. Tomboy
sounds old-fashioned now. Now
my body betrays me, burns
its rising waterfall of heat, stutters
my brain, so I’m empty-
its rising waterfall of heat, stutters
my brain, so I’m empty-
handed, speechless, pink and glistening
in front of my students who look
at me curiously, who try on
in front of my students who look
at me curiously, who try on
new pronouns, who are burning
the other end of hormones.
It’s true, the seared-through view
the other end of hormones.
It’s true, the seared-through view
from here, widening with breath.
The I-don’t-give-a-shit that pours
rivers into whatever I deeply give
The I-don’t-give-a-shit that pours
rivers into whatever I deeply give
a shit about—that lie, that
bullet, that caged child,
that bear with burned
bullet, that caged child,
that bear with burned
feet trying to outrun our fires,
that mother orca, starving,
carrying her dead calf
that mother orca, starving,
carrying her dead calf
for weeks. She haunted me, sure.
But her sisters, menopausal,
loyal, who followed her, diving
But her sisters, menopausal,
loyal, who followed her, diving
to catch the limp body each time
it fell. Who, like us, live
for decades past bleeding,
it fell. Who, like us, live
for decades past bleeding,
past eggs, past the invisible
power like a magnet
I hardly noticed until it was gone,
power like a magnet
I hardly noticed until it was gone,
and I walk through the café
invisible. Formless. No eyes
sticking to me, drawing the contours
invisible. Formless. No eyes
sticking to me, drawing the contours
of my body—a body that opens
tentacles, horns, fins, unfurls
weird new sense organs
tentacles, horns, fins, unfurls
weird new sense organs
past my skin. The bodies
of those orcas remember, lead
the pod to hunt and survive,
of those orcas remember, lead
the pod to hunt and survive,
I read. My friends tell stories
of what we do, seared awake
in the night. What dark
of what we do, seared awake
in the night. What dark
tastes like in this new land,
unmapped, unspoken.
We laugh a little too
unmapped, unspoken.
We laugh a little too
hard, link elbows, spit
in the arroyo where we walk
our dogs, our beautiful
in the arroyo where we walk
our dogs, our beautiful
mutts we love as children.
We toss out plans, squint
toward the desert horizon, stride
We toss out plans, squint
toward the desert horizon, stride
with new power, rise for breath,
unfollowed, unfettered, gleaming.
unfollowed, unfettered, gleaming.
