think outside the box

"honey,
why don't you like this dress?"
mom asks as we pull out shiny
baubled sweaters and itchy scarves
at goodwill.

"it's your size."
"it's not my type."
"what do you mean?" mom laughs.

what do i mean?
let me think. what the hell do i mean?
i mean that after 20 years,
she still can't tell that i'm not comfortable
in dresses.
20 years and i still get the fitted shirts
with "genuine girl", flowers, and american flags
patterned across them
thrown out at me in the aisles.

but what do i mean, not my type?
ever since they put that oozing jelly
on her belly
i've been a girl.
since they stuffed on the pink hat.
since they put me in "daddy's little girl"
onesies.

i never had a choice, a type.

they put us in boxes -
1 or 2,
pink or blue.
what do you mean you don't fit?
the hell is wrong with you?

GIRL or BOY
oh, my bad -
BOY or GIRL
because we know which comes first
we know which is #1
you'd tell your son to choose the blue bike over the pink
and by the time he's an old man,
he'll be tellin his little boys
don't touch those barbies,
you ain't a homo.

dude, don't put that ariel picture on your wall;
you're not a girl.
put back the pink backpack;
pick up the football.
cut out the girl push ups;
save up for your first motorcycle.
forget the long hair;
cut the gay away.

hon, why are you playing with race cars?
there's barbies in the other aisle!
there's fake pockets on your pants?
that's what purses are for!
why don't you do your makeup?
some nice blue eye shadow -
your eyes will pop!
oh, not that they're not pretty already.
don't wear a bra to bed; your boobs won't grow.

so? BOY or GIRL, which will it be?
you think an ultrasound can tell you
the gender of that thing?
they haven't even learned their first word
haven't even cooed,
haven't even gotten a whole scrapbook
dedicated to them
but wait-
pink scrapbook
or blue?

there is no third color, no other.
the yellow walls are only for the unfortunate,
undecided,
unannounced,
unsure,
uncomfortable.
we laugh at the stunted yellow ones,
the gender nonconformists.
the hell's wrong with them?
you can't cheat the system.

come on! THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!
they chant in school.
if you wanna get in the group for smart kids,
think outside the box.
think outside the box.
forget everything they've told you;
throw it away for an hour.
all 10 years,
all 3650 days,
all 520 weeks,
all 87600 hours,
and that ain't even counting leap years.

so tell me,
how do i think outside this box?
because i'm pushing and shoving and i haven't
felt an escape route for 20 years.
you keep telling me it gets better,
but i'm suffocating here.

oh. that's why.

i am the box.