Speak, little boy- I shall. (poem)

If it pleases the court,

I shall entertain.

Attention steal-

steel wheels on tracks without oil.

I will house all condos,

suburbia houses,
cottages
and abandoned gas stations
(where my grandmother lived
when they were young and poor)

in my brain for safekeeping,

while the sandstorm,

tears through your towns,

on the western plains.

I shall demand respect,

little boy,

speak.

My head turns slightly to the left,

the stage, though a love of my life,

can speak its own harsh language, sometimes.

It can be hard to keep up.

The Star that once shone brightly,

seems to fade from exhaustion.

Proverbs are keeping the time

of the ticking clock on the wall, and

I wish there was a Mausoleum,

large enough

to hide my dreams in,

away from my view.

I shall keep on searching,

for a grave,

a closet,

a shower,

a mirror,

in which I can hide some of who I am,

if you want me to,
since I always sense a
feeling that Im a bit
too crazy for you.

I wish there was a cathedral big enough,

in which my spirituality could grow,

be free and express what I know,

even if it's not quite
what you want to hear.

I am still looking.

I will not let you go,

though you did leave me.

I wish there was a page long enough,

a speaker loud enough,

with which I could speak on abuse,

violence, emotional and sexual assault,

harm, humiliation of others,

negative energies of all kinds,

vampires taking energy

(and sometimes other things too).
I see the crimes in front of me and

I will not be quiet.

So, if you want a place

to hear a freedom shout,
a page long enough,

a cathedral big enough,

a gender fluid enough,

a grave deep enough,

I can and will supply

a place for us to come together.