Sorrow is humbling. I want my pain to be fabulous. I don't need my pain to be worse than anyone else's; I just want it to be strangely, uniquely mine. Art to someone else's breakdown.
— Thea Hillman, "Dear Kath After"
from the anthology Pills, Thrills, Chills, and Heartache
Mots clés pain humility sorrow clint-catalyst michelle-tea thea-hillman
YOU YOU YOU
your eyes, thick as a high school scrapbook
crackling and yellow, curling at the edges
a book of myths
in which i do not appear.
Mots clés poem unrequited-love eyes absence short clint-catalyst
For folks who have that casual-dude energy coursing through their bloodstream, that's great. But gays should not grow up alienated just for us to alienate each other. It's too predictable, like any other cycle of abuse. Plus, the conformist, competitive notion that by "toning down" we are "growing up" ultimately blunts the radical edge of what it is to be queer; it truncates our colorful journey of identity.
Said another way, it's like living in West Hollywood and working a gay job by day and working it in the gay nightlife, wearing delicate shiny shirts picked from up the gay dry cleaners, yet coquettishly left unbuttoned to reveal the pec implants purchased from a gay surgeon and shown off by prancing around the gay-owned-and-operated theater hopped up on gay health clinic steroids and wheat grass purchased from the friendly gay boy who's new to the city, and impressed by the monstrous SUV purchased from a gay car dealership with its rainbow-striped bumper sticker that says "Celebrate Diversity." Then logging on to the local Gay.com listings and describing yourself as "straight-acting."
Let me make myself clear. This is not a campaign for everyone to be like me. That'd be a total yawn. Instead, this narrative is about praise for the prancy boys. Granted, there's undecided gender-fucks, dagger dykes, faux-mos, po-mos, FTMs, fisting-top daddies, and lezzie looners who also need props for broadening the sexual spectrum, but they're telling their own stories.
The Cliff's Notes of me and mine are this: the only moments I feel alive are when I'm just being myself - not some stiff-necked temp masquerading as normal in the workplace, not some insecure gay boy aspiring to be an overpumped circuit queen, not some comic book version of swank WeHo living. If that's considered a political act in the homogenized world of twenty-first century homosexuals, then so be it.
— excerpt of "Praise For The Prancy Boys," by Clint Catalyst
appears in first edition (ISBN # 1-932360-56-5)
Mots clés queer homosexual clint-catalyst flamboyant mattilda mattilda-bernstein-sycamore prancy queer-subculture
I felt old. Again. It had been happening a lot lately. I did not live the life of an old lady, but I could hear it beckoning to me, like a mermaid on a rock."
— Michelle Tea, "Paris: A Lie"
from the anthology Pills, Thrills, Chills and Heartache
Mots clés queer aging anthology lgbt-literature editors experimental clint-catalyst michelle-tea first-person-narrative
Page 1 de 1.
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.