I Put the X in Sex
Existence can be taxing, the way
they want to fix us into their boxes.
Gender exile—I got a new license.
An X marks the spot where
my axe split the binary. We are
wax and the ruling class is always
a devouring fire. A hoax on the devoted
and a hex on the dissident. Anarcho-
gender dynamics mean we remain in flux,
taxiing between ports of entry and of exit.
This identity document is more jinx than
salvation, despite the joy mixed into
holding it. My sex needs state monitoring
like a hen house needs foxes, to be
examined until it is time to feed. I’d
rather be extracted altogether than
coaxed into part of a statistical analysis
aiming to place us in exact divisions.
I want to kiss strangers and fall
like snow. I want to feel the brush
of fingers against fingers. I want
to live every day like the beginning
of summer. I want to know what the
caterpillars know. I want to speak
the language of sunflowers. My body is not
an accident and I will not apologize
for it anymore. I want to dance with
the devil. I
want to watch the sunrise and let
go of fear. I want to build my house
out of yesterday’s splintered
bones. I want to burn away every
useless grievance. I want to pulse
like the heart of a hummingbird. I
want to risk drowning
in love. I am ready to have my
heart broken. I am ready to have
my heart. I am ready to have.
jd hegarty is a lawyer, a poet, and an essayist living in Saint Paul, Minnesota, with two loud grey cats. They have an MFA from Hamline University. jd’s work can be found in Chronotope, White Stag, Crab Orchard Review, and Mortar Magazine. Their first chapbook, On Passing was published by Red Bird Chapbooks in 2017. They can be reached at jdhegarty.com