Flower pot boys these dolls ain’t toys.
They are used to receive waking dream transmissions.
Plastic horses escape corral,
Crazy-glued horns they’re unicorns now.
Neighborhood pests in the afternoon.
Dynamite mind sets bent for doom.
Prissy boy nickname ricochet battleground,
Everybody rattled out, hide your soft side.
Kid Farside alone if he could
Making all day trips to the west side wood
Walked up on by the eighth grade class
Dancing by the river in a wedding dress.
Estrogen, estrogen. Doctors came and questioned him.
Testing blood and chromosomes, injecting in testosterone.
“Tell us what you want, and we’ll tell you why it’s wrong”,
With the prods and the pokes and the long, hard looks
Hushed tone talks and “honey, take a walk while we
Chart your condition in our clip board books.”
Soon as he was able, headed for the train.
Don’t complain you just grab the reins.
Heard if you can make it, there’s always been a place
In the heart of Fringe City for boys who rock lace.
Calling for a rule book rewrite
No hard line between girls and boys
It’s a wide spectrum as proven by
Chromosome forty-six triple-X Y
Nest-headed girl rude lip, hard ball
Dirty hands, bloody knees and a broke tooth smile
BMX-ing construction piles. Dares that she barely just survives.
Hits the trail, hits her moon,
Ditch routines that you can’t resume
Made it to the coast with the wits she had
Dying brake pads, thousand mile ride.
Seized-up fried and dies, but all good,
One last stretch she can make by foot.
Work boots stomp stink-weed glass,
Results to deliver in a welding mask.
Nitrogen, glycerine, substitute for estrogen
Distilled by the mother of the one-eyed crone.
Androgynous secrets under told
Provide the fuel to re-cast the mold.
She is of the ilk that’s wild and bold,
Who’s endeavors have enabled us all to unfold.
Games don’t tell the boys from the girls.
Looks don’t tell the women from the men.
Been that way since the end of the world,
It’ll be that way ’till we start again.