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.