"Not Your Dream Boy"- Finn MacLaine
When morning came,
I watched the bones of a fawn reclaim their ivory
beneath a golden gun.
It was shaking in its heat, but, sleeping on the trigger.
the softest sun.
I want to be the soften son.
When Oakland escaped me, I watched 4,000 miles
slip under plane--a distance too great to seethe over,
a city too beautiful to weep in.
She told me something is missing for her with girl on girl.
Did she not see me? Geographical, cure me.
break habit of handing my heart over to that
cyclical reiteration of a really bad religious story
nobody wants to hear.
I know I am not your dream boy.
when I was pretty, the world was kinder to me.
But it gets so exhausting wearing costumes to parties
disguised as normal days.
When I was sleepless enough to wake,
my girl started taking up less space.
Her halves were not cut from the same whole, they
were cut from different fabrics.
Blankets torn post-sew--so, so split from childhood.
Caitlin died on Halloween when the second head grew.
I was chopping his hair, coloring him green
started calling him Finn.
He was so reckless.
A pent-up boy trapped in a 20-year old sissy body.
all teenager, blood, and teeth.
pissing in the flower fields, burning the sea.
If you want to know me, go home.
dismember your limbs from frame.
Reassemble your body blindfolded.
Open your eyes----Who are you?
does your body get in the way of that?
In the shower, I am only scrubbing myself
citrus enough to be human.
But, Finn feels like an insatiable phantom limb.
My mother, she tells me
she must have raised me wrong putting me in dresses.
She cries just because it is something to do.
she does not understand why this son
has eclipsed her delicate moon.
Sometimes autumn gets too thick to wrap my arms around.
I fall in love with another straight girl,
just like Mommy said I would.
Not because I want to be disappointed
but because I want to be a good boyfriend--
or maybe because I want to be disappointed.
Just don't touch me.
In Los Angeles the leaves don't fall.
they just sort of build in your gut, filling you before
winter's bite, but not letting you eat too much.
Tastes just like anxiety.
i'll tell you, when your body keeps you from yourself,
the fingertips sort of blister in lemon.
they become too sour to touch anything kindly.
When I love, it is the same familiar love.
desperate, but with necessity to be far away.
Necessity to prove something--keep me busy
at night, i'll be dropped off on the bed I forgot was mine.
Naked and nameless with a gnarled human face.
still too bitter to speak of affection,
still on hold with the wrong God
but the only one who picks up the phone when i'm ringing.
Maybe Finn is much bigger than I am.
maybe I sleep in as many beds as I can
just to make myself sick, searching for a home I never had.
And maybe, my heart is the color of greed.
maybe my body too scrawny.
But for one night, ask me anything you want.
close the curtains on the eyes of your fear-God.
Just don't ask how much is missing.
don't tell me there's no room--i'm still expanding
When morning comes, i'll watch the bones of a Finn
reclaim their ivory beneath a gun.
I'll be shaking in my heat, but sleeping on the trigger.
in that golden glow, I will be the softest son.
I am the softest son.
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by Krisha Algoso & Nicole Dela Cruz
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About the artists:
Krisha Algoso is a queer Filipinx poet from Oxnard, California. Her poetry is her living heart work and the medium through which she interacts with the world. With love, she writes of love, identity, hardship, and hope, and draws inspiration from poets like Audre Lorde, Kim Davalos, Rudy Francisco, and Denice Frohman. Krisha has been a featured artist for poetry showcases and open mics. Haikus for Hard Times is Krisha’s first printed collection of poems.
Nicole Dela Cruz is a self-taught artist who resides and works in Oxnard, California. She works with various mediums including digital, watercolors, acrylics, and clay. A native of Batangas,
Philippines, her art is minimalistic and heavily inspired from muted earth tones that include
plenty of flora and fauna.
Nicole has been drawing and painting since she was young and loves to tell stories through her art.
"Haikus for Hard Times started as a homemade zine made of construction paper, twine, and poems that I wrote to give to my closest friends at Christmastime. The pandemic was a difficult time for everyone, and I was inspired to create a collection of poems that cultivated healing, compassion, and connection for my loved ones."
"The zine was so overwhelmingly received with so much love and encouragement to be turned into something to share with the community. This body of work combines messages I tell myself when I’m in my own depths and beautiful art by my best friend, Nicole. With this zine, we extend ourselves to you – our loved ones, our supporters, and our community. We hope that you’ll be reminded of what you deserve, especially when times are hard."
"Nicole and I thank our partners, families, and friends for their love and for being the best at keeping our project a secret! We also express our deepest gratitude to Mo and Get Loud Movement for sponsoring this little pocketbook of pick-me-ups – our vision would’ve only been a vision without your support." - Krisha