Friday, March 20, 2009

Poetry and Shit: I do it sometimes, too.

I walked out of the library carrying a posture proud of the weight it defied. I found myself in that space between the doors to the warm and the doors to the cold.
It's funny what a pair of pants can do--how a few fewer folds of fabric frame you.
I approached the door, and for the first time in about a week, a boy in the cold put himself on hold and held it open for me.
So in these curvy jeans, they make a girl of me, even if that's not what I myself see.

But what happens when I trade them, swap them out for something baggy, to show the world the rest of me? Would they make a boy of me
And would they still hold the door
because it's the right thing to do, when someone's behind you.
Since the answer is no, I can only assume
That they've made me invisible.

So boxers or panties? Binder or bra? Hip-huggers
or "Dylan's jeans"?
Turn heads in heels and a dress?
No.
Girl today. Gone tomorrow.

3 comments:

  1. While I understand invisibility, I also understand that people see what they want to see, regardless of what you show them. There are plenty of idiots out there. Luckily, confidence transgresses gender. To borrow the words of Audre Lorde: "Honor the complexity of your vision and yourselves." The dominance of one characteristic over another doesn't necessarily render the latter invisible. "Girl" will come again, as will any other identity you claim for yourself. Nothing is permanent.

    ~B.

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  2. i've been thinking about this a lot today, to the point of saying to people in the office: "hey guys, i need help. how do you read my gender today? because i've become illiterate."

    and i wonder: do you/they/we think about it every morning, "do i want to be a boy or a girl today? how do i want to be read? and what if i just want to wear the clothes that are comfortable--what do they say?"

    i wonder what it would be like not to.

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  3. you know, i've thought about that myself. maybe a lot of people don't even feel like they have a choice--like wandering into the boys' section is not just something that you just don't do, but it's a thought that is so far out there that it doesn't even cross their minds.

    there are times when i don't really think about it, and i must admit that i never used to think about any of it. i would just wear clothes that i wanted to wear that day. only after people started saying things did i really understand what i was doing. i always understood that the way i look and dress is different, but it took me a bit to realize that "different" in this case is construed as something negative.

    as for the poem itself, i didn't mean it in a depressing kind of way. i just wanted it to be something for people to think about.

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