I am, as they say,
my own ride or die.
Around here, as Heidi N Closet once said,
there are many, many closeted guys
who would love to take me for a spin;
and I just can't deny
that I, too,
am interested in what their fantasies might look like.
I am human, after all,
and finally, once again, academia's very popular thrall
who indulges in useless things like poetry and archeoastronomy,
who throws the entire kitchen sink at the fucking wall
because he is insecure
about just how fearfully near
to perfection
he might taste like,
if it comes down to it.
So goes the first narrative,
the other being that I am not over the trauma from Eunoia,
and that I actually want to return to the Civil Service.
So let's indulge, then,
in roads that take you far too close to home:
in places where I am not afraid to resist
what you want from me.
Tape me to the wall,
to the floor,
and tell me about how wrong I have been
about everyone's sexuality.
Tell me that these stories about me
are right. And tell me truthfully
what your motivations might be.
Because the projection is
that I game the system, with my mind, heart, soul and body:
is this how the rankings work for you, then,
at your university?
Do things move and combine into weird places
just to satiate someone's Eurocentric sense of achievement and rationality?
Rank me high then.
Move into a wet,
I mean weird,
I mean, uh, cishet
place inside me.
Rate me highly
even as you violate every last one of my boundaries
because you're too insecure
about my value. My propositions. And what you assume is my popularity
accumulated from performing an identity
that isn't Kevin Martens.
Ooh, bitch, you're so fucking naughty
when you make me feel that I'm the one
who has nothing of actual, legitimate worth to bring to the party:
when you make me feel
that I'm all trash. My abstracts are judged by incompetents. That I'm pathetic, and crazy.
That no matter how hard I try,
I lack any sort of real, meaningful, purposeful creativity.
That just like you,
I crank my emotions, and shade, and disdain up to eleven
hoping against hope
that someone will actually believe me.
No posts