The Gallery
April 17, 2012

Let me tell you a little something about myself
And hold your answers for the end

I wear my glasses like shades
and my clothes like camouflage
Hoping that one day they’ll stop persecuting for the physicals
and let me write my physics paper in peace

Or write a poem about my problems
        without being shoved into a locker
Or read a poem about your answers
        without being spat on when I ask if I can play soccer

Look, I’m sorry I don’t cry when I play on my harp
and pluck heartstrings into arrows of emotion
as poignant as they are sharp

My words lose their sting when they’re penned down against their will

I’m just not cut out to chew up my feelings and spit out my insecurity
I like to peck at the crud of life and laugh at its immaturity
I’m going to wait for my knight in shining armor to save me
Or at least savour the sweet scent of salvation

Meanwhile I’ll hide behind my metaphors
Take cover like krill in an endless sea of similies

Armed with alliteration and my precocious personification pistol
I March into battle like a lion
and come out a listless little lamb clutching my watch crystal.
Where’s Matthew Shepherd when I need him?

They can’t see me if I can’t see them
They can’t hear me if I laugh louder
They can’t hold me if I push them away
And I can’t trust them and still stand prouder

Shoot down my inner voice and hope the mug-shot’s a composite
Because I’ll be long gone before the gestapo tries to shake me from my closet

Maybe my dreams are poetry that I don’t have the balls to write
Magnificent inarticulate artwork given to me by the goddess of the night

Don’t get me wrong though

I’m not saying this is the whole picture
I can see only as far as paintbrush bristles,
But judging by the watercolor rainbow dripping down the easel,
I’ve got a bright future waiting for me after a high school of dismissals

I just wonder how long it’ll be before it’s our time
to be hung up in the gallery with the other survivors of hate crime

I hear there’s some lovely blacks and whites on display down South
And news of the installation of vibrant yellows is spreading by word of mouth

The reconstructed reddish reservation refurbished from
smokey has-been Casinos is still settling in

And the exhibit in the middle of the East wing is
expected to be an excellent display of neo-modern art
at least once the massive iron sculptures finish cooling
and the blockades have all been torn apart

Oh yeah, I’m looking forward to the opening of the gallery
Because on that day they’ll let me write my poetry without fear of abnormality
And won’t dare judge me by my God-given sexuality