Where I come from, there are so many beautiful songs for the dead
to be queer in this country is to wear too much black for funerals / to be dragged out of the closeted embrace / to bear too much loss / to carry a whole city in your belly / i left black holes for thickest skin / and blood / my elastic heart took an oath of resistance from hostile tongues and foul teeth / in this country / we are buried in the places they want us to be / we say our names before looking up to god for the promised america / existing is like drawing too near a black hole / once i held a boy’s ash / renamed it my new savior / once i bent my waist to the tomb of a boy / i spilled his tomb with sunflowers and roses / i lazarused his bones / my scream was loud as i said resurrect / i called the country that bore and fed me dead / and i heard beautiful songs / lyrics like the sound of the living / like the sounds of the wind making good songs / and then i called myself beautiful / and like a fierce chase / death took my casket away from me