Nonsense Clogged Up The Drain Today

Left a poem in the shower today

Let it drip down my thighs and down the drain

Thought maybe if these words were watered down a bit

Then this potent elixir might pass as a juice box in disguise

Too sweet

Void of any sustenance

Comfortable, leaving a giggly impression in the pit of your stomach

Simple for you to swallow

My words

Easy for you to lap up

But keep you up late at night

I wrote this poem so many times

So many revisions it’s lost its flavour

Dummy juice

For the man who thinks neutral pronouns mean they don’t matter

Who took two years to check a box off because it was convenient for you when it was inconvenient for me

In the doorway I felt framed

A cheap commodity at the grocery store

You mention calling me “ma’am” and wondered if it was wrong

Didn’t quite wait to be told otherwise

I wrote this poem so many times

Trying to water down my identity for you when really

Fuck you

Guess not every cuss flowed down the drain pipe

One stuck like a long hair in my ass

I try not to think of you as that pain

But really, I do not owe you anything

And the dead protein that disengages from the top of me is yet more significant than your political correctness

I am not your campaign

Not your bargaining chip of wokeness and sensitivity

I do not owe you even a strand of my complex and shimmering identity from the tip of my head

My identity is a vast galaxy filled with bright brilliant stars

You

Are barely a speck of dust floating through my infinite universe

I am limitless

Not bound by your “yes ma’am”

Nor by the doorframe you thought to capture me in

I wrote this poem so many times I didn’t think much was left to say but

Words must have bubbled up the drain

Clogged by your insignificance

And my pronouns that you can’t even begin to put your mouth around and attempt to suck dry