To Mr. Sigerson St. James, FtM

Your face, Sigerson, is pale and drawn

And what is the matter with you?

It is not a bad face, well shaped

Though the nape

Of your neck is upturned

Your vertebrae striking the sky.


Why are you sitting there

Bent like a lowercase R

With your head in your hands –

Are you miserable still?

You're wallowing in it. Get up.

Go perform.


The words will come out of your lips

(Not bad lips

Though they're cracked and corroded away

The skin will come back

One of these days

And you won't be a bundle of nerves.)

The problem with lips

Is they need to be kissed

And how long, Sigerson, since they were kissed?

Are you miserable still?

Can you breathe?

And what are you going to do?

Girls dress in pink, St. James,

Boys dress in blue.

So where does that leave you?

Sigerson St. James?

Where in the world

Is the world leaving you?