two poems.

1. use value

the conditions of my reproduction are thus:

slimy, mewling, i emerge
and thrust myself always-already

into waiting wombs of identity categorization
labelling myself to death

but i’d do it again
i’d do it again
re-produce

the way i forget the contractions, the contradictions
the way i forget that my head is beating against a brick wall
my body mistaking the writhing seizures of market flux as orgasms

capitalism has to be sexy
capitalism has to sex me
so that the moment in my own neoliberal re-birth
when i am screaming “you did this to me, you bastard”
ends up being “totally (net) worth it”

2. loose ends

i began with loose ends
hoping to tie them neatly into bows
around the un-wrappable packages
of these categories:
writer/critic/race/politics/gender/self/other/community/knowledge

but like a certain hopeful monster*
the tail end of it all
began to bind my feet
though i found them pretty at the time

then up to my waist
measuring the smallest units of meaning
and finding them always insufficient

then like a safety noose
clutching tighter
in erotic transfigurations
mindblowing theory
the little dea(r)th

tangled, these chains of meaning
fall into my lap

the only way to prevent
being handcuffed by them

is to play cat’s cradle
where there is no last move
only loose ends

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