LOUDSPEAKER:: Passing fancies by Isabel Theodore

 PHOTO: Dennis COWALS

PHOTO: Dennis COWALS

WUSSY is proud to present poetry by queer ATLien, Isabel Theodore. 
If you would like to send in a writing submission, please contact Nicholas Goodly

I walk the finely threaded linearity of your dreams—
Your dreams which iron my dreams.
Heated press, whoosh of steam,
          a cotton scented blue and no other color,
          my nerve-crimps de-crimping.
I say art has location, space and time,
temporality the nail on which we hang our paint paintings and word paintings and music paintings.
But so does love, which is never a just but an all and an everything and an eat pray.
Am I a straight man walking, Doctor the Missus Your Name Here?
Will I build the house under us? Does the house already exist: stucco on cervix, carpet, curtains
and other ugly words that named me
that dread incubator of more flesh and more teeth and resentment?
I stood toe to toe with women. Our eyes and breasts near level
or I dreamed them to be, in desire's drowsing halls. 
I rise your soft underbelly.
My father sees me. Throws an apple. 

 

Isabel Theodore is, alphabetically: an aspiring comedian; Pinay; a poet; queer; Sagittarian, so you can trust her. Lives in Atlanta, talks shit @docfission.