louie crew has edited special issues of college english and margins. he has written three poetry volumes: sunspots (lotus press, detroit, 1976); midnight lessons (samisdat, 1987); lutibelle's pew (dragon disks, 1990); and queers! for christ's sake! (dragon disks, 2003). on the web.
Linguibators can't unite.
Lord, Last Spring!
That's when I stopped liking my body,
Wished I hadn't put all that time
Making it so male, so butch;
That's when, baby,
I first started peeping out,
Before my debut
_Read him honey!_
That's when I first wanted to be fucked!
_Yes, Lord; chill us brother!_
Now I am a woman trapped
In a cage of male muscle,
_Wreck us, sister!_
A gorgeous quean strapped in boy bulges.
You have waxed in my mind
a red fire engine with a clever chrome smile.
Trumpets sprout silver lilies
in the Purcell spring I can hear again.
Many spend their few moments of communion
in smoke and drying beer, but for us
tin birds sing, flowers burst,
and egg yokes sunflower clowns' eyes.
Your magic makes our times real.
You are Shelley with the exultingbark of a Bull Conner dog set free.
This mad joy is important because it is ours,
a gift, a surprise.
You have shown me how with my fat fingers
to draw the moon to me, or to splash it away,
how to spray the sun's light through ooze of trees.
And we are freer because we love one another.
God Made Navels
God made navels,
or mamas did,
then disconnecting us
collecting lint or
roping into old age
God made mamas
and their navels too.
God made absolutely everything.
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