I played a game of chess today
With a lass from West L.A.
I pinned her king and said “Checkmate,”
But West L.A demanded “Wait!”
She pointed out that I had doomed
A king whose gender I’d assumed
And what my small mind hadn’t seen
Was that I had trapped her second queen.
Having no method now to win
I concluded she had done me in.
Now the world can only guess:
Why don’t more lesbians play chess?
Filed under Poems
I read my child the story
Of a little red poultry whom
I respect, thus its female genitalia
Did not cause me its gender to assume.
My child looked up and said “Parent,
“I like when you do funny voices
“But why can’t we read about princesses
“Then make our own damn political choices?”
Filed under Poems
Apparently my teachers were wrong
And there aren’t boys and girls.
Turns out gender is “representational,”
Or so the new story unfurls.
Seeing that sex doesn’t matter
To whether you’re he, she, or other
I think we need a singular pronoun
That applies equally to one another.
In the past we were male and female
And likewise called he or she.
Apparently the gender-neutral
Is also important, so they tell me.
So I have an unbiased option
To represent them, me, and you:
We can just say humans are SHeIt.
It has all three pronouns, and also is true!
Filed under Poems
If you’ve got a gender
And that gender is Agender
Than an Agender gender
Is the gender that you’ve got,
But if you think non-cis is nonsense
And you don’t buy into bi
Then things which you are thinking
May be different than you thought.
There’s a rift between androgyny,
Pangender folks, and the FTM.
You may think that there’s no difference
Between trans-males and trans-men,
Or that trans-ness is divided
Down the trans-two-gender line
When in fact the trans-varieties
Number nearly twenty-nine!
If your creed denies this credence
You’ll be supported a few more years,
But if the “miss” in “miscelaneous”
Offends you, have no fears;
If you identify as other
But don’t like “other” as your name
Then nonconforming, variant, or non-binary
Are semi-synonyms for you to claim.
And if you want to carve your identity
In history’s hallowed halls
Invent your own custom gender now.
(May I suggest: No-balls?)
And make the list grow larger
Than the current 58
And you can show the establishment
That you don’t want America to again be great!
*Subject to change
Filed under Poems
Nevertheless
Always the more
Seldom the -ible
But often the horr-
Too much conniption
For such a poor fit
This new lack of him/her
Well, I’m tired of it
Filed under Poems
Under the apple tree
You are you, I am me.
We can hug and kiss all day
And never hear the others say
“Why are you kissing that horse?”
They don’t understand of course
But under the apple tree… well, there
No one ever seems to care.
Filed under Poems
I used to think the male gender,
Was a role in which I fit.
I was happy being “he”
Until they said “you’re it.”
Filed under Poems
