ars poetica
you think I’m kind on the daily
—and my healing
always soft
you don’t see me
beat to the ground
the Forehead Man
& his Mouse-God friend—how
I bonked the lights out
from their faces til one
had no teeth
and the other—
only a mouth
stuffed full of them—
across this white field
I use my own Pointy thing
Stabbing—after all is always
Personal
you see—they did not see
my Rage coming—
said they wanted me
to go Home—Go back
their jaws cajoled—
Go back
to where you’re from-from
& so
they saw me Go
& Go
—with each blue
wide-eyed Stab—
and Stab—
into the bone
& mush of them—
Gone—Home—
Home to my Rage
and they—such slabs
of meat—
Stayed
Copyright © 2020 by Aldrin Valdez. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on October 20, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.
“This poem began on a crowded train, where the accrued violence of this nation can so often come to a head in intimate, quotidian moments that are seemingly small and ahistorical. I’ve had many encounters in public wherein I felt threatened by someone’s racist, femmephobic behavior whether it was implicit and fleeting, or plainly and bluntly articulated. In those moments, my rage can feel overwhelming—I’m flushed with it but can’t express it out of fear of being harmed, detained, murdered, or some combination. These moments are the nerve endings of convoluted systems of abuse and historical events, and when I feel compelled to contain myself, rage sends my imagination leaping. Rage can be a creative force; writing this poem is an act of rage.”
—Aldrin Valdez
Aldrin Valdez
Aldrin Valdez is a bakla writer & visual artist. They are the author of ESL or You Weren't Here (Nightboat Books, 2018), selected as a 2019 finalist for the Lambda Literary Award for Best Gay Poetry.