manner school

i put a napkin in my lap to catch
the falling men. it always starts
with your family. my father 
& my uncle. 
at the diner everyone 
is a politeness lesson. 
the small fork goes in your soul
& the big fork is for picking up hair.
my uncle loved to teach me
how to be a perfection.
touching the tops of my knees
& scolding me to close my legs.
i have always been 
a gender without any keys.
balancing a dictionary of fingers
on my head. i wore frills 
that turned into gills.
i ate french fries with a fork & knife.
somehow it is never good enough.
i would come home 
from lunch with him 
& think, "you must be
a monster." in the mirror
my eyes turned to sunny-side-up eggs.
bacon tongue. i tried to wipe away
all the grease. my wrists becoming 
saucers. i carried all the weight of wanting.
wanting a daughter ghost. wanting
a pristine devouring. there is
always blood & guts & gore.
it just depends on who is washed
& who does the washing.
i took my gender to the backyard 
& put pine cones in his hair.
we learn to shape shift.
here is my proper gender.
my grilled cheese face. then, 
in the dark of my bedroom
i get to be the biggest ugliest spoon.