#an li

[awildtara]

happy birth to all my fellow two faced geminis but ESPECIALLY happy birth to my FAVORITE gemini an li

[videocore1984]

Daddy An Li

[videocore1984]

[videocore1984]

"These heels aren't gonna lick themselves"

[videocore1984]

[videocore1984]

Daddy An Li

[largethingslargerthings]

Meditative Weekend of Poetry: An Li

The language we currently use to describe ourselves is a form of Boolean algebra.

I don’t want scars to remind me that I had to take a knife to this body in order to call it mine.

I buy a dress shirt and I feel like a child again.  It is a men’s size S and the cuffs go past my fingertips.

A stranger mistook her left for her right and kissed me on the shoulder instead of her boyfriend.

I hope we evolve into higher beings with 6 sexually dimorphic genders and needlessly complex sex.

My parents watch a video of my nephew.  They laugh and say he reminds them of me as a child.

I watch the broad shoulders of the Asian man walking in front of me and feel euphoric.

I don’t want to shoot up this body in order to call it mine.

Would I prefer being a fairy in a dress or a butch dyke in menswear?

This fear is habitual, unconscious, reflexive.

My optometrist asks me, Number 3, or number 4?

(”And again I stare at my chest as if waiting for it to bloom”, Poetry V. 213 #4)

(Suggestions: I am entranced by the multitude of styles and the disassociation of meaning-through-forms that it inspires.  In pictorial forms, there is a larger image suggested but is negated by its parts which add up to varied media that may hold no relation or contradictory relations to its supposedly larger-subject.  An Li has several instances in this poem.  A confessional journal entry (”A stranger mistook her left for her right and kissed me on the shoulder instead of her boyfriend”).  This juxtaposed with narrative poetry (”I watch the broad shoulders of the Asian man walking in front of me and feel euphoric.).  There is the brutal honesty of body poetry (”I don’t want scars to remind me that I had to take knife to this body to call it mine.).  Is there a cadence appearing in this collage?  Is there something that serves as a tonic?  Or is dissonance the tonic?)