POEM IN WHICH I TRANSITION TO THE TUNE OF BIG KRIT’S KING OF THE SOUTH AS READ BY MARY SHELLEY

everybody wanna see a monster
till they see a monster,
the monster holla out – what’s shakin?

I too have fought to be this restless,
actually Frankenstein is the doctor,
so the monster was the genders we were
along the way.

Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein as a way
to tell the men around her that she will never die,
I too have threatened my life in front of those
who would otherwise have me exhibited.

light at the end of the tunnel /when
you’re flexin’ it’s hard to be humble

Dr. Frankenstein tried to flex on death
and built death a body that could flex back.
When the light comes – flex
like there is no tomorrow, what a way to go.

The pills shift the body fat, and so
the muscles look and don’t look impressive;
I am lucky to be against my body in a way
that makes it look fit – flexing on my disorders.

I’ve been quietly waitin
deep in my dungeon, my stomach
was rumblin’, my belly was achin’

for so long the closet was a safety,
then became a coffin, then became a safety again.
It’s a shame to ask pills to do for me,
what I cannot do for myself.

Everyone wants to see a freakshow
and so I walk in the open, unafraid by my own shadow
Everyone hopes for the monster to kill itself – so it does.
The monster in me asks the world to dance around it – so it does.

I done proved them wrong like twice,
can’t stop my fight

A boy calls my body a boy and I interject –
actually this body is the monster, I am the one
that resurrected myself against death.
You: I am become death
Me: I am the genders that death forgot

fuck em, fuck em,
fuck em, fuck em,
fuck em,
I said it six times cause
it’s my pleasure – say it one more time
just for good measure,

fuck em.