And you know what I hate the most? Having to queer things, as though they were not already queer. And you know what I love? Being queer, by which I mean being: it's really so great and queer to live. You see me in the field in parallel and feel exhilarated,
like we might eat or kill each other. I'll bite and you'll shoot, wear my pelt. You'll tell stories about me as a function of your remembering. And winters at night you'll hear my cousins howl
around your cottage, and feel like you're in their story, a long way from Williamsburg. Really it's fine to use me in your poem,
I might lick or bite, and I’ll use you: yeah, wolves write poems, too. If your poem’s the mirror / my poem’s the hole in the field. And it rains through / the hole in the field.
It’s raining through the hole in the field—
Presented at Tendencies: Poetics and Practice at The Graduate Center, CUNY
on March 9, 2011.