Month: September 2023

cereal milk

balladrael 
my animal code built me selfish
don’t share warmth or meat or drink!
but my brain renewed, and I felt it
thinking thoughts I would never think
since that year I made a new baby
and my baby wired her new mom.

now she asks for a bite of my pasta 
and I feed her before I eat.
I delight in her smile as she chews on
that lunch I put on my plate.
 
I offer her spoons of my ice cream
and it’s honestly better that way
to see her smile, to see her delight
at the ginger caramel treat.

The sweet milk left after cereal
She totters up, points at the drink
So I hold the bowl to her lips and
She drinks and drinks and drinks. 

What has she wrought? It’s magic – 
warming and funny and wild.
I’m grateful that I want to share
my cereal milk with my child.

[Featured Image: breakfast, from Wikipedia, public domain]

portrait of a businesswoman as a twelve-year-old boy

balladrael 
By midlife, I have become a world expert
I have a resume so impressive it would still be impressive if it were split in two.
But amateur men still feel the need to explain to me, 
badly,
topics that I literally published original research on during my PhD.
Topics that they clearly don’t understand
based on the incoherence of their “explanations.”
I daydream often about being able to transform my appearance
to that of a 6’3’’ heavily-muscled White Man
and transform my voice into something low and intimidating
something suitable for God in an animated film.
Then I realize that transforming myself into a scrawny, disfigured man would be enough.
Or honestly, even a 12-year-old boy whose voice hadn’t broken yet – 
he would garner more respect,
because he has the POTENTIAL to be a man.
If I could be a 12-year-old boy on my conference calls
imagine how much less shit I’d have to deal with.

I hope this makes you angry.
It makes me angry.

[Featured Image by McGill Library on Unsplash]

heaven

balladrael 
always seeking
always racing
inking, writing questions, chasing
sisterhood with sheiks and shoals
the crash of untamed ocean rolls 
in some highwater heaven.

always yearning
always thirsty
blanking, drafting, blaming, painting
futures where the sky is green
eraser crumbs strewn through the scene
in my refashioned heaven.

always tasting
always yearning
butter golden sunlight churning
over flesh that's bare and shameless
tiger's smile that splays no tameness
in some hot summer heaven.

always reaching
always rowing
tossing turning rising growing
blisters on my palms and soles
climbing towards the fauns and souls
in some imagined heaven.

[Featured Image: klecksographie, public domain]