The latest instalment in our haiku column by Louise Gerodias.
“Mom has been acting a little strange lately. We can all agree.”
Suzanne stood on the talking stool in the centre of the treehouse. The talking stool had three legs and wobbled dangerously if you didn’t spread your weight right, but when you stood on it, nobody dared to interrupt you…
in the open city, i move like an eel. i am electric and curved like a smile razored. in the open city, i live on hot food and hot music …
A common trope for cisgender artists is to create work about transgender people, but only address the person for their physical characteristics or medical transition …
still has my copy
i still have her copy
at the mouth
of mina zayed, oozing
back when Grandmother had one breast and i had none
she helped me realize strange visions,
the particulars only a child conjured.
i asked for a birthday pie shaped like a fish
TV Dinner is a modern symbol/icon of the often oppressive constraints of gender roles and life as a housewife in the 1950s.
My Aunt Earline is heaven.
Could teach them bakers at Piccadilly’s a thing or two.
She’s as sweet as the cakes she makes.
A romp through the playground that encompasses sexuality and the viewer’s gaze…
The pink flower mantis always remembers
his freckled purple orchid and her petals
which held raindrop
full with dewy fortunes
for his praying hands.
I hate those
hockey jersey toting
“what’s up, fag?”