pilot episode 

in the pilot episode of my life
all our voices sounded different.
there was a softer blue texture to the air
& no one refused to eat. 
i was a boy in the pilot. the test audiences 
didn't think i looked believable. gender,
whether we like it or not, is always about
the crowd. what they decide we can
& cannot do with our desires. in the pilot episode 
of my life i did not have parents. instead,
i was raised by my grandfather. 
the executives thought that was too confusing.
they dug a hole in the ground & buried him.
i still hear him talking. i go to the yard
on a full moon. unearth him & feed him
tangelos & ice cream. we lived in a house
at the edge of woods. it made the watchers 
bored & they wanted something to catch
on fire. whenever i see a plot cropping up,
i try to kill it like i would a snake. chopped into
writhing pieces. do not make me a story.
instead, i want to be a stained-glass window. 
the audience says, "there is no such thing
as choice." they buy me a straw hat & tell me
to pick apples until my hands turn blue. 
winter comes. my hands around the fruit. i decide
i am going to stop being a spectacle which is like
a bear at the zoo deciding the same. escape is best done
non-materially. a hole you carve
in your own lung to plunge into. 
in the pilot episode of my life, i was happy. 
or maybe i just believe that now that so much is gone. 
i laughed & i got reborn whenever i wanted.
the credits rolled & we ate them with a fork. 
my gender, glossy & gleaming. my grandfather
like a great kapok tree. the separate lives of 
our shadows as night fell.