The NY skyline swirls around me,
Cars and brick and tree trunks
mashing together,
glass windows gnash jagged teeth
The body of a dead girl was
found earlier today,
bleeding out on the sidewalk.
Rising from her body came
an awkward boy,
stammering and confused
and full of wonder
and terror all at once
The boy’s grandparents keep
a photo of the boy in a
dark chesnut wig,
all made up and dressed to the 9’s
(They believe her to still be alive)
Ladies and gentlemen and variations
thereupon, observe this paradox-
She lives, he dies, she dies, he lives;
yet they cohabitate side by side
in a singular trembling body. A body that
cannot contain them both, for the
world is not ready for such a
body.
Personally, I have had a difficulty understanding the trans and non-binary statuses. But this poem helped me at least grasp the idea of what it may be like with that identity. The line "She lives, he dies, she dies, he lives; gives an impossible situation in which I may not understand as always grouping people as either male or female. There are different shades of gender, beyond the binary simply emphasized by society.
How do you get people to talk about difficult/uncomfortable issues? Make it into art - # # People tend to be much more open and expressive when they feel they are experiencing art rather than an article, debate, etc.