Thursday, July 15, 2010

short leg strong

i wake up late
stare at the cheesies on the floor
and the shoes still on my feet
and the sun through the
christ what time is it windows
of my bedroom

racing the coffee pot
with a before work shower
i make a pact with the old spice body wash
i bought on one of those
'this is a lot of body wash and smells like the sorts of boys who make my knees weak'
to quit drinking
(note to self - this smell turns showering into
ahem. long showering)

maybe if i just switch to light beer?
don't get me wrong
i respect nondrinkers
and smoothies
and freshly squeezed organic juices
and livers just not into
that kind of thing
consent is sexy

but i
am the kinda guy
who learned quite young
that i'd rather say yes to a fight
a challenge
a shot and a bar to dance on top of
than no
i can't
i'm not like you
my body is small
and 87 pounds
and riddled with words like
and that one leg shorter than the other

so i push myself
i ignore the red flags
while i hoist the rainbow ones
i will dance til the morning
and still find flicker in my eyes to walk you home
and linger in your doorway-
give in my bones to
push past your layers
of skin
and sensibility-
burn in my muscles to
drive until dawn
until i can feel you
fall asleep
around me

a friend of mine told me not to let it go to my head
this american able stuff
this art star famous stuff
and i find that funny
because its not about vanity
or humility
but dichotomy
i don't need to be on the screens of the TTC
to have one more asshole
tell me
how inspiring i am
its a distraction
the disabled distraction
if you're a fucking hero
no one has to sort out their shit
we can just smile or cry

i heard that one of the people detained
during the G20
was beaten with his own prosthetic leg
he worked for Revenue Canada
and i gotta say
when i read that
i couldn't stop laughing
here i was
stuck in peterborough
wishing i could protest with my disabled comrades
from DAMN2025
having to read Anne's speech online instead
about the money spent on securing
the fate of those secure nation leaders
and the money cut
from the diets of the special, disabled and poor
by our nation's leader
and buddy is knocked out with his own leg
i couldn't have written a better metaphor
he's not a hero
he's just another person getting whacked by the phallus of capitalism
and god if only that was a sexier thing to watch

i was kicked out of the washroom at woody's once
because i wasn't in there alone
but when that scuzzy door swung open
the 6 foot bar man
looked at me so fast he needed
to tell you
that you could take me upstairs
for the key
to the accessible
his apologies

the choice
between tired
from banging my head on the same wall
or tired
from too many cocktails
and un-healthy decisions
makes me wonder
what health even means
feminist fighter
betty friedan once said
that if we take care of the day
the night will take care of itself
but i think
you gotta take the night like a lover by the hand
walk with her up to the bar
and slam down the key to the accessible
after 45 minutes

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