alien

(Whispering)
“What are you?”
“What are you?”
“What are you?”

Well…
I am not sure how it happened.
But somehow,
I was born into a divide
Between three socially constructed things, named “races.”
And now
I am eternally attached to socially constructed pain
And denial.
I am an alien, you know.
Yes,
I AM an alien,
An alien.

I know I am an alien, because
Of those boxes.
Those boxes on paperwork,
On standardized tests,
School application forms,
On background check forms,
On, on,
On,
Everything.
The boxes that encase other boxes
With these vague categories next to them:
African American (pause.)

Caucasian (pause.)

Native American (pause.)


As if
It was that simple.

Oh,
Oh.
I forgot
“Other.”
Other is for people who aren’t JUST
Caucasian (pause.)
Who aren’t JUST
Native American (pause.)
Who aren’t JUST
African American (pause.)

Strange,
When I fit all of the above criterion. I am
Caucasian (pause.)
I am
Native American (pause.)
And I am
African American (pause.)
But
To corporations, governments, and institutions I am still
“other.”
Other.
Other.
Other.
Other.
Other-
nothing.
Alien.

Thank you,
Corporations, governments and institutions
For not allowing me to have an identity
Outside of
other.


There was a “teacher,”
who told me to choose one.
Can you guess which one?
I lived with my white father (at the time)
So I chose: Caucasian.
I chose. She grimaced as she stared at my brown skin, and curly hair.
I cried.
I sighed.
I lied.

Sometimes I tried to see the boxes with humor.
I would choose “Hispanic,” because I knew I could pass as…
quickly turned into a rumor.
I speak no Spanish, and
Neither does my family.
There are no signs of Spain
Or South America in my ancestry.
There was a teacher,
Who told me that I couldn’t "lie,"
I had to choose the box that “truly” reflected I.
The Cortisol jumped in my blood,
And I wanted to hide
But I bent over, checked “other.”
And knew that I lied.
But it was an “ok” lie, according to the lady
Whom passed herself off as a
"teacher."
Who gave us packets of worksheets
and assigned seats.
Not her problem.
Not her problem.
Not her problem.

My lies,
My ancestry,
My life,
My pain.
My soul.
My identity.
My alien.
My other.
My alien.

So many years on this planet.

So many years on this planet.

So many months on this planet.
So many weeks on this planet.
So many days on this planet.
I feel rather existential.


I thought: “I will try to write a poem, for once.”
I realized how much that statement
Made no sense.
So now,
I am writing a poem.

But all I could think,
As I urinated
Into a porcelain vase,
That leads to another space,
Was that I have lived
So many years on this planet.
So many months on this planet.
So many weeks on this planet.
So many days on this planet.
So many hours on this planet.
So many minutes on this planet.
So many seconds on this planet.
AND
I have only lived
Twenty-one of the first “thing.”

I am so poor

I am so poor.

I am scary-poor.

It doesn’t feel that terrible…

I find my way around.

I am so fit.

I am very fit.

It doesn’t feel that difficult…

I enjoy it.

I am so quiet.

I am extremely quiet.

I don’t feel that silent…

It isn’t so silent in my brain.

I am so cold.

I am freezing cold.

It doesn’t feel that life threatening…

I put on more layers.

I am so young.

I am a child to the middle-aged.

I don’t feel that immature…

I like to learn.

I am so responsible.

I am ridiculously responsible.

It doesn’t feel that great…

I find it monotonously necessary.

I am so sustainable.

I am considered a “tree-hugger.”

It doesn’t feel  that time consuming…

I look for the recycling bin.

I am so hungry.

Sometimes I am starving.

I can afford potatoes…

Yes, I do work. Don’t you?

I am so angry.

I hate the way the world is.

It feels hopeless.

I try.

Fools come in all shapes and sizes

Fools come in all shapes and sizes. Trust me.
Popular things are what you need. Not again.
Comfort is Spectacular. Oh really?
“Please” is nice to say. Didn’t you know?
Eat sugar Sparingly. I never do.
An apple a day keeps the dr. away.
An apple in any way?

Drink plenty of water. Trust me.
Take Jesus as your Lord and Savior. Not again.
Television is Amazing. Oh really?
“Thank you” is nice to say. Didn’t you know?
Eat your deserts After dinner. I never do.
Wash your pan after you cook in it.
When I cook water in it?

Eat fruits and vegetables. Trust me.
Insurance is Awesome. Not again.
Fox news is Phenomenal. Oh really?
Recycling is nice to do. Didn’t you know?
Watch your chocolate consumption. I never do.
Clean out your refrigerator.
When there is nothing in it?


Don’t believe everything you hear. Trust me.
The majority opinion tends to be the right one. Not again.
I highly recommend voting for George W. Bush. Oh really?
Reading a book is good. Didn’t you know?
Refrain from drinking. I never do.
Never watch television on Thursdays.
So I should watch television on other days?

Movement is good for you. Trust me.
You should never question your ideology. Not again.
Capitalism is the Only way. Oh really?
Gardening is good for you. Didn’t you know?
Wear a jacket. I never do.
Do not walk under ladders.
Why not?

There is a stew within my brain, and

There is a stew within my brain
And I do not want to eat it.
There is a stew within my brain
And I do not want to see it.
There is a stew within my brain.
There are no refrigerators.
There are no Tupperware bowls.
There are no zip-lock bags.
There are no garbage cans.
There are no other people to eat it.
There is a stew within my brain
And I wish it were a dessert.
There is a stew within my brain
And it has sat in one place for days.
Things are growing in it
And it looks very strange.
There is a stew within my brain
And I want to vomit whenever I attempt to talk myself into having a bite.
It consists of sentences that stand alone,
That do not connect and they all seem to fight.
There is a stew within my brain
And I want to pick it up and dump it on the floor,
The only problem is that I would be left to clean it up and look at it more.
There is a stew within my brain
That consists of tears
Fears
gears
And
Kissing rears.
There is a stew within my brain
That used to be soup.
The soup used to be broth.
The broth used to be water.
The water used to be air.
The air used to be fair.
There is a stew within my brain
And I am convinced that if spilled,
It would leave a huge stain.

There is a casserole in my body
And I don’t want to eat it.
There is a casserole in my body
And I don’t want to see it.
There is a casserole in my body.
There is no plastic wrap.
There is no dish.
There is no ice.
There are no preservatives.
There are no dumpsters.
There is a casserole in my body
And I wish it were a banana.
There is a casserole in my body
And it is cold and moldy.
It moves without movement
It is alive and does not look ordinary.
There is a casserole in my body
And I feel sick when I poke at it with my knife.
It consists of confused, neuronal vibrations,
That do not connect and they all seem to fight.
There is a casserole in my body
And I want to get rid of it,
The only problem is that it is a metaphor for something in my body resembling a fidget.
There is a casserole in my body
That consists of jitters
Litter
bitter
And
Feeling withered.
There is a casserole in my body
That used to be an entrée.
The entrée used to be food.
The food used to be good.
The good used to be tasty.
The tasty used to be delicious.
There is a casserole in my body
And I am convinced that if dropped
Along with it, would be my entirety.

I have experienced ugliness

I have experienced ugliness today.
I have experienced only the purest form of human scum.

I never expected to find it today, of all of my en-endless days.
I was having a relatively nice time “out” in the world. I was going to see a puppet show; that is all that was on my mind. The puppet show and I was wearing my new clown outfit.
Yes, I am a clown.
My clown outfit consists of suspenders, a golf hat and a sheriff badge.
It is beautiful. I love it.
It is typically a confusing outfit to a lot of people, I am sure most people are quite confused by my ways.
I have been laughed at, pointed at, called “honey- boy,” and spit at.
Luckily there was a window protecting my middle finger while I stuck it up at them.
I wonder if they also saw my confused, beautiful tears
.

You just don’t look normal, you know what I am saying dear?

Please, please do not take this the wrong way, but you are insane. You really are, I,I am not attempting to be malicious. I am truly a nice person. I am just trying to be honest with you.

 Honesty is the only thing that comes out of my mouth.

Trust me, please trust me.

"Why am I insane?"

Well, you definitely look insane.

You look like an insane person.

You just don’t look normal, you know what I am saying dear?

“No.”

Oh,

Well, honey you do look insane,

You look completely out of your mind.

You must’ve been born like this,

Yes, bless you r poor little heart.

“what?”

You just look insane, alright!

You look completely bonkers!

You must be crazy!

“excuse me? Ma’am?”

Hun, I am just telling the darn truth! Ain’t nothing but the truth in my words! As God is my witness!

You are insane!

“I don’t think this lady understands”

“Yes, she seems to be rather confused.”