Beautiful Weird Moon (after Nick Walker)

Full Moon  May 12, 2025

The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.

            —Audre Lorde

At times maybe you know yourself a beautiful weirdo

Sometimes it may feel like an ineptness or being planted roots up in toxic soil

I know I am a queer willow tree

living in a middle aged human body

At least sometimes I know, like springtime when I come on all flirtatious

& flamboyant with buds swelling as I hydraulic pump fresh fluid from subsoil

I am in love with the chill of winter & the soaking rains & the unctuous sounds

of clay mucking & just want to make catkins to declare what words cannot.

And I’m surrounded in lush difference

Leaves moldering, wild babies of all species swelling in fur bellies or burnt umber shells or moist oval opalescent membranes reflecting rainbow prisms.

This world is out of this world with vibrancy & phase shifts

It does not fix us even as it roots & homes us, gives us everything we need

This world sings us each a song of becoming & belonging

(sung) Come, come, whoever you are, wherever are you are, come!

Queer the song with long breath or short,

with chirrups, thumps, groans, moans, hiccups, bellows, yawns, growls

This is a mixtape universe being crafted as we dream ourselves out of spirit matter

This we know: spirit matters

It is essential, but it doesn’t essentialize us

Queer your vision by closing, squinting, zooming, widening, opening

Queer your touch by licking, bouncing, clapping, stroking, shaking, flapping

Queer your ears by circling the dial to the more-than-human station, to the music between others’ words, listen to your own listening

as it makes up what the future may sound like

I am in love with spring & with being unsettled by how novel chlorophyll cells appear

Who is GREEN anyway?

The sun becomes me & I unfurl in appreciation

There is no place more weird than this being, this being,

this silly-serious song of being

Out of nowhere, for no bad reason, I was born to be this way:

limbs dipped in air sugar spun like wild radish seed

corkscrewing into the synchronous soil of wherever

Hell bent on some shade of purple variation

Hot cold beautiful weird, anyone everywhere is natural, whole, evolving, perfect

For praise of the sacred in each of us,

every heavenly zit of life ready to burst in season

I cooked up this pollen, I produced these leaves, I bent down & rose up again

Near the stream of life-giving water & was made by you

By virtue of your aliveness I too can behave wildly, in the beautiful weird

So: all praise the lack of cops & gatekeepers in the origin of the world

Let’s eliminate them from our co-created spaces

All praise the delicious delirious continuum as natural as rain

All praise neuroqueer heresies that creatively flip the straitjacket narrative forever

& in deep regard, may we all flop down & grow radically free together.

Our psyche, our soma, flowering congruence, joyful, somber

Sharing breath, making sacred anew, aloha

Aloha to you & you & you.