English Assignment


There should be a rule instated
That the moment a foot is out the door
It immediately becomes illegal
To assign homework

Before I became, well
Um don’t judge, I didn’t pick the name
The Old Guy did

I would do my homework
It was
Nice, yes, it was
Nice, calming really

A poem? He wants a poem
About our life
As if I have time to write one
As if I have a reality to share

Me, the high flyin’ rootin’ tootin’
Superhero undercover as a high school student
Could tell ten poems from each night
Maybe even a few monologues

But ha, ha, he said it doesn’t have to be good
Or even rhyme
Just honest
If only he knew how honest

I can be
Or how much honesty

I have in me

I guess

A little girl
Held my hand once
While I wasn’t paying attention at a stake-out
Said she wanted to be me when she grew up

I really liked that, that I remember
It’d be nice to immortalize it in literature
Here, let me show you
What it could be

A surprise act of love
Tiny hands on my Kevlar glove
With fierce eyes, she told me all she wanted to be
Was me

Eh, not feeling this rhyme scheme, what about

Surprised to find my grip rough
Seeking comfort, a warm embrace
I think she thought I’d be made of softer stuff
Like poise and a mother’s grace

Well now I feel——————————————–pretentious
He did say we didn’t have to worry about the rhyme
But wouldn’t it be the waste of a——————–lifetime
To not rhyme those, sorry, not being very—-abstentious

Heh heh


I miss my mother
—————-I never really
Knew her, I don’t know what
———————-Happened to her

—————I wish my dad would tell me
————————But he doesn’t understand
——————————He could tell me and I could
———————————————————-Still love him

Da da dee dum deeeee daaaaaa
Da da doooooo dum dee da daaaaa
Daaaaaa dee da duuum daaaaaa deee da dumuuum
Da da deeeeeee da da deeeeeee da dum dum doo

Tiny presses, little hands
Hard chord, four hands
Big ones guiding little ones across the keys
A mezzo-soprano’s hum in my ear

I think she died, some faceless woman
Named Miriam, dunno if she took our last name
Buried somewhere, alone probably
Maybe in a city, maybe by the sea, maybe a no name town

A red haired woman named Miriam
Who loved my trans father
Who could have been trans
Who could have been fucking anything

Hah, wow, a little upset there, huh
Good thing I can’t submit this to school

All I can do is trust
That if she could have come back
She would have

Wait wait
I figured it out
Haha, little victories
I know what I am going to write

I thought of something beautiful today
Musical notes, just simple piano keys
Coasting by, reminding me
Of her place in my memories

Hands holding hands
Being weak to make another strong
A brief moment where existence
Didn’t have to be lonely

I can’t tell
Wait let me um
I can’t tell, okay good

I can’t won’t tell
Because it’s mine and mine alone
The single thing I have left to love her by
I wonder if she knew it’d be that

Hands held mine a few days ago
A stranger that came to me
Or rather I held theirs and I think
It changed her

Alright now
Give me an A+

Thank you so much for reading this, as always, it means a lot.  Reminder that you can sub to my newsletter here for discussions on queer stuff as well as some original artwork along with writing prompts!  Also my essay on Shape of Water just got released on Culture Vultures, and it would mean the world to me if you would give me a click.


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