• Day 14: get your freak on
    a little freak goes a long way

all you have to do is move against the crowd
dress just outside of your gender
grow your hair a little too long
or buzz it down to the scalp
dye it green or let your grays show, baby
let all your body hair roam free, as free   as   the   wind   blows
don’t fix your teeth
free yourself from the box in which society expects you to fit
become a misfit among other misfits
make existence your island
speak a little too loudly about your disdain for authority
roll your eyes at the pearl-clutching squares
who call cannabis the devil’s weed and mean it
wear stripes and polka dots together
fuck complementary colors
CLASH WITH EVERY FIBER OF YOUR BEING
open your mouth to lovers of any gender, no gender, all genders 
gender bend that shit until you’re your own rainbow
dust yourself off                      defy their expectations
do a silly little dance to the beat of their fear
hug trees, chat with the birds, and brake for everything
be soft as butter left out on the counter in spring 
love and love and love
with every fiber of your being
a little freak goes a long way 
to making life bearable 
if you let it
    title is from a meme (below), idea from Amy Kay!
    a little freak goes a long way

    all you have to do is move against the crowd
    dress just outside of your gender
    grow your hair a little too long
    or buzz it down to the scalp
    dye it green or let your grays show, baby
    let all your body hair roam free, as free as the wind blows
    don’t fix your teeth
    free yourself from the box in which society expects you to fit
    become a misfit among other misfits
    make existence your island
    speak a little too loudly about your disdain for authority
    roll your eyes at the pearl-clutching squares
    who call cannabis the devil’s weed and mean it
    wear stripes and polka dots together
    fuck complementary colors
    CLASH WITH EVERY FIBER OF YOUR BEING
    open your mouth to lovers of any gender, no gender, all genders
    gender bend that shit until you’re your own rainbow
    dust yourself off defy their expectations
    do a silly little dance to the beat of their fear
    hug trees, chat with the birds, and brake for everything
    be soft as butter left out on the counter in spring
    love and love and love
    with every fiber of your being
    a little freak goes a long way
    to making life bearable
    if you let it

  • Day 13: a day late
    a poem in which my wild escapes into the woods

    escapes or is born —
body trembles slick with viscera
     newborn long-limbed and yearning already
  in the bright morning light
a tangle of donn waves
   casting amber rainbows in her gold eyes
    rosebud lips, freckles or mud? between her toes
   moss spreads, a velvet shoe to enchant travel
  
  my wild wraps herself around trunks
    bark pressing rivulets into her pale,
 if she could twine herself between the rings,
      she would
she would stretch out between abundance
    shrink in drought, knees to chest
when night falls, she swims in silver light
   floats on her back, breasts two half moons
        bobbing on the surface
apples ripe for the picking 

  she runs with the fawns,
 all limbs and softly thudding hooves
  breath rising in ribbons from her nostrils
she lays   down
     on a blanket of pale violet flowers
  smaller than her thumbnail, and
dreams in sagas,
   sagas of her primal yearning,
forever untamed and wandering
    title is a prompt by Michelle Awad
    a poem in which my wild escapes into the woods

    escapes or is born —
    body trembles slick with viscera
    newborn long-limbed and yearning already
    in the bright morning light
    a tangle of donn waves
    casting amber rainbows in her gold eyes
    rosebud lips, freckles or mud? between her toes
    moss spreads, a velvet shoe to enchant travel

    my wild wraps herself around trunks
    bark pressing rivulets into her pale,
    if she could twine herself between the rings,
    she would
    she would stretch out between abundance
    shrink in drought, knees to chest
    when night falls, she swims in silver light
    floats on her back, breasts two half moons
    bobbing on the surface
    apples ripe for the picking

    she runs with the fawns,
    all limbs and softly thudding hooves
    breath rising in ribbons from her nostrils
    she lays down
    on a blanket of pale violet flowers
    smaller than her thumbnail, and
    dreams in sagas,
    sagas of her primal yearning,
    forever untamed and wandering