I reclaim my right to be a monster

by Susy Shock

I, poor mortal!

equidistant from everything

I, ID 20598061

I, first son of the mother that I later became

Old moon of this school of torments

Amazon of my desire, bitch on heat of my red dream

I reclaim my right to be a monster

Neither a man, nor a woman, neither XXY nor H2O/HBO

I, monster of my desire, flesh of each of my brush-strokes

blue canvas of my body, painter of my walk

I don’t want any more titles to fit in

I don’t want any more positions or boxes, nor the exact name reserved/
assigned to me by any science

I, butterfly alien / foreign / outside to modernity, to postmodernity, to

normality

oblique, wild, cross-eyed, handmade

Poet of the barbarity with the hummus of my song, with the rainbow of my
song and with my wingbeat
 I reclaim my right to be a monster and let others be normal

The normal Vatican, God’s Creed and the normal virginal Maiden, the
normal shepherds and herds, the Honorable Congress of Normal Laws, the
old Larousse of Normal

or

The Vatican of normal, God’s Creed and the virginal Maiden of normal,
the shepherds and herds of normal, the Honorable Congress of Laws of
normal, the old Larousse of Normal

I only carry the garments of my matches, the countenance of my look, the

touch of what I’ve heard, the wasp gesture/movement of kissing

And I will have an obscene tit of the bitchest moon on my waist

and the erect penis of the dirty larks

and seven moles, seventy seven moles, what am I saying! Seven hundred
and seventy seven moles of my devilish sign of creating my beautiful
monstrosity

my exercise of inventor of morning doves whore

my being me, my being me among so many alike, among so many tamed /

domesticated, among so much fear thrust in of something

another new title to carry, ladies toilet or gentlemen

new corners to invent

I perspired, wet, nauseating

germ of the enchanted aurora that doesn’t ask for permission any more and
is rabid of Maya lights, epic lights, pariah lights, menstruales, marlenes,
dianasacayanas, with no bibles or tables, with no geographies with nothing
Only my vital right to be a monster or whatever I call myself, or however it
comes out, or whatever I can my desire and my fucking will

My right to explore myself, to reinvent myself, to make of my

transformation my noble exercise

to Summer myself

to Autumn myself

to Winter my hormones

the ideas

the bums

the whole soul

Amen.

Susy Shock