Defiance
By Alice White
My whole body is an act of defiance.
It starts at the roots,
which I’m growing out.
It turns out the silver and ash of old age
are naturally the same color
as the $200 highlights I’ve been
paying for these last ten years,
but Fuck You ! hairdresser anyway.
Next we have my heart,
my open, wounded, still beating heart,
with which I choose to connect
with whomever I fucking like.
People with mullets.
Angry people.
People who don’t like dogs
or even cats.
I don’t care.
Then we have my bum
on which I sit worshipping
the sun and the glory
of doing nothing,
not even planning to do
anything.
Just sitting
feeling it
slowly grow
Numb.
Along the way my genetically too small
knee caps and genetically half grown thumb
nails join in the fun,
this wondrous gathering
of body parts against the zeitgeist.
Yes they are different.
Yes I don’t care.
Yes I’m 51 and having sex
and dancing and farting
and changing my whole life
when some say
it’s practically
Done.