stevie redwood

ode to the house of weeping queers: #1

we trade notes about loving each other & killing capitalism—

flicked under bedroom doorways, left on the hallway mirror, taped

to the coffee grinder. laid out across the butcher block m found

propped against a telephone pole on bougie-street trash day

before they hauled it home & got the gristle out. they sanded & polished it

until it was slick & manicured as jeff bezos’s idle hands, & less stained

with the blood of other creatures. until it was well-oiled,

gleaming like teeth, so clean we could have eaten

the rich right off it. until one day we did,

& found out they don’t taste like chicken after all. we knifed the rich

into mouth-sized bites & ate with tiny silver spoons

k stole from the minimalist housewares store that got a whole building

of seniors evicted. we chewed & chewed, hungry for a heart

-y cut, but m said when they sliced behind the breast

there was nothing there. we gorged ourselves anyway & bickered

about whether we were still vegetarians. m said yes,

that things only count as meat if they were alive once. k said no,

but it was worth it.

 

stevie redwood is a disabled sino-jewish neuroemergent introvert genderpervert homotrash littledreamer bigmouth freak living & dying on Yelamu Ohlone land / San Francisco, CA. they like shittalk, porchsitting, leaflitter, & riffraff. find them trolling yimbys on twitter @trash_whisperer.