Mother’s Call

Mother never called
after I was hurting.
She still didn’t understand
I’m a daughter now.
She never understood the ways
I was when I was a boy either,
so I parented myself.
Now as a 44 year old woman,
crying and broken,
I become
my own impeccable mother
because I can now.
I recognize something vacant.
I parent myself again.
I always wanted a daughter.

Go Back Dolphin Lesbians

I’d like to go back to where
the psychic ancient dolphin lovers
frolic, fuck, and grind in the azure water,
gnawing their sharp little teeth
on each other,
shredding the salt water with sunlight
in passionate, carnal wails
in the midst of longingly deep thrashing
ocean.

I’d like to go back, but
I can’t.
That’s just some far off, far out
cosmic memory now,
here to surface and die in my genome
like that aborted baby girl my girlfriend
and I let die years ago,
here only to be a feeling.

Blue eyes drifting in a car
on a sunny New Mexico day,
some afternoon never again,
just continuing on in the Universe.

Here only to be a feeling.

Married To A Richard I Could No Longer Love

Richard leaves water
scattered
all over the bathroom counter.

Richard combs his hair
in a way I wish he wouldn’t.

When Richard opens cereal
he leaves the top of the box open,
forgets to close it all the way.

One time for my birthday
Richard forgot what I wanted.
Then when I asked him,
“Richard, could you hold me?”,
he had the nerve to say,
“Yeah, just a second, hun.”

Every time Richard uses his fork on
the butter
I hate him deeply for this,

hate him,
hate him,
hate him.

– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin