get me a shit wig, high heels and a military jacket
let me show you what a non-issue your bulshit is
bring on the buckets of love you fuckers
time to lash you with what you’ve been missing out on
call me a sell out call me fake call me a faggot
you will never know me
i can be whoever you don’t want me to be
and i will strut passed as you lie in your dirt
blood boiling with the bass
shut up the fuck up and watch out
activism
the second history
well aren’t i ridiculous
to act the way i do
against you
punching out in directions
breaking the broken
shifting in and through
permeation
hard rip into all of it
to do it my own way
against
pushing to make
dominance in reverse
slurping sounds
as it releases
reel to end
be kind rewind
wind it all up
catalogue it
placed in an archive
forget
revisit to remember
why it was
hidden
tape 2
a fresh start
without your bullshit
a new time
Being Other
Feeling overwhelmingly other,
being one of the others.
where are all the other others?
Lost in every metropolis,
drowning in the majority,
the majority of the minority
that the majority
thinks us and wants us to be.
A spectrum obscured,
disguised by the loudest of us,
falling between cracks
in representation.
Lost without reference points,
falling out of pigeon holes,
too much for some,
too little for others.
READY TO BLEED
the blood makes for fine writing
red washing the statistics
a scream you cannot hide
dark patches of age and uncleanliness
watch these desks flip
soon to find the slices and let it out
draining more if needs be
look at these eyes
watch the shoulder muscles tense
ripples of your fate course through
a belief in explosions to be shared
joys in cracking ribs until you learn
proclamations by the fist full
piss is too crude and easily given up
splashes of blood mean something
means sacrifice means heart
we will bleed on your hate
your hate will be drowned out
sentences in bloodlove will stain
read what you see for it won’t leave
palms won’t hide you from this
laughs will not ripple through
not until this ends
I.J. Keddie 