being queer is being pleasure. it is the highest form of art. when you are queer (which is when you are always) you pity those who aren’t. being queer undoes your seatbelt—it is the stranger at your door. when you are queer, you’re so insufferably good-feeling—a bigot mourns. being queer makes you a blessing—the next day alive can be a miracle—since rising from a stupor is defiance, pure & simple. being queer is navigational—though versatility is welcome. it is eating from the dog bowl—& then surfing in stilettos. being queer is quick to suffer; both erotic & lubricious. it’s perverting prior signals—holding hands turns fetishistic. being queer is on the weekend. or it is crushed into your coffee. it’s a painless execution—with you at church, on both your knees. being queer is biodegradable (just not in the way you think). being queer is body-hot—feeling so horny that you vomit. being queer is hand on throat. a ring of bruises; righteous necklace. being queer’s a melting ice cube—forever sliding down your sternum. being queer is proof of bullets—or else the shore of foamy leisure. being queer is subatomic—inextricable from nature.
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