Another restless night.
Persevere is a virtuous word.
Perseveration is not.
Grief is a stone in the gut.
It does not rest.
~sb
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Snapshot Poem 17 June 02026
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Drag
the sum is greater than the parts. Digital collage by sb. Full credits at flickr. Drag was, in my lifetime, acceptable. Men were allowed to pretend to be women, for entertainment. Men’s organizations played with it often, even ritually. Old photos appear now on the internet of famous men (J.D. Vance for instance) coyly posing in makeup and wigs.
Of course there was the gay version, sort of underground, sort of private, sort of not for straight viewing. We were allowed to nod at this behavior as long as it was play, but not, as it sometimes is now, gender fluidity.
I was in my twenties when I realized that I, too, dressed in drag. Let me be clear, I was fine being female, never wanted to be a boy, was not even a tomboy. Though I did covet some of the boy privileges I was beginning to recognize.
But, all that dressing! The makeup, the short skirts, the high heels, the stockings, the done hair. It was work. It was expensive. It was not, physically, comfortable. I know now that I pulled it off, but I did not know that then. One can never be pretty enough.
And with gender — my gender — came other expectations. Marriage, motherhood, sweetness, compliance. These I failed at. These I never wanted, and even if I did, I hadn’t the talent. Boys, of course, had their own demands, on themselves, and on us.
This is the third of a series on Gender. The others are:
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Caturday – Beau
Picture Perfect Beau, August 02020. Digital collage by sb. Full credits at flickr. -
Seasons
Seasons. Small poems & digital collage by sb. Text of poems below. Full credits at flickr. I’m thinking of posting some old collages, with some old poems. Is that a good idea, or not-so-good? Sometimes when I look back at old work, it inspires me to get back at it. fall
september night
waiting
for the moon
winter
winter coming
in spiked boots
the taste of nettles
spring
who regrets
the passing of winter
the coming of spring?
summer
summer solstice
longing for someone
who doesn't long back -
Gender: Anatomical?
Inexplicable. Digital Collage by sb. Full credits at flickr. When do we need to know someone else’s gender?
- If we wish to reproduce with them. It matters then. Sometimes.
- If we are attracted to them? Why? If attraction is there, is that not enough?
- For risk assessment. Boys and men are more dangerous than girls and women. For women and girls in a space without other people about, this is essential information. (Sorry, sensitive nice boy, nothing personal.)
- In public bathrooms? I honestly don’t see how. Public bathrooms have booths. We can all use them.
(And, you, bathroom gender police, while you are checking for camouflaged males attempting to enter the women’s room, a male-to-male pedophile is next door in the men’s room with a small boy.)
I remember well the both-gender bathroom on airplanes panic! that killed the Equal Rights Amendment. It made no sense then or now. It had nothing to do with sharing bathrooms, as we all do in our own houses and elsewhere without difficulty.
All this clearly has to do with something else entirely. Such panic over anatomical differences. Perhaps these differences aren’t as important as we think they are? Or perhaps something else is at stake.
This is the second of a series on Gender. The first is here.
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