a pump of bony pelvis / ode to michael jackson

cover your mirrors

a phantom has passed

in the end

we will all look

like michael jackson

a hypnotist

dandy

sexy spirit of corpses

vodou’s ghede in sunglasses

a pump of bony pelvis

he-he was as pale

as a manga superhero

as smooth as zorro

a limber zombie

singing thriller

a minstrel

in reverse

a gloved black power fist

curled tight around an aching

crotch (daggonnit baby ow)

oh michael i loved you

you king without borders

you emotional pauper you pop

you sure-footed lunatic

you flying lost peter

your irresistible girl voice

floating out of a grown man’s

ever-shifting timeless

chiseled troubling face

you were your own race

you mess of delicious gender

you queer jolly roger

you masturbation good

you lover not a fighter

you earth-quaker

you perfect music maker

you screaming-fan-fainter

you fedora flicker

you james brown snicker

you slicker

he-he was a childish child embracer

our american disaster

our american anthem

the original idol

gaudy godlike and only man

the ultimate

cross over

act

has irrevocably crossed

over

his graceful genius

body

gone

too soon

too soon

said, cover your mirrors

to hear ghede laughing

but in the end we are still

looking

for michael jackson

© 2009 by Lenelle Moïse

new poem: mud mothers

mud mothers

the children of haiti
are not mythological
we are starving
or eating salty cakes
made of clay

because in 1804 we felled
our former slave captors
the graceless losers sunk
vindictive yellow
teeth into our forests

what was green is now
dust & everyone knows
trees unleash oxygen
(another humble word
for life)

they took off
with our torn branches
beheaded our future
stuck our breath up on pikes
for all the world to see

we are a living dead example
of what happens to warriors who―
in lieu of fighting for white men’s countries―
dare to fight
for their own lives

during carnival
we could care less
about our bloated empty bellies
where there are voices
we are dancing

where there is vodou
we are horses
where there are drums
we are possessed
with joy & stubborn jamboree

but when the makeshift
trumpet player
runs out of rhythmic breath
the only sound left is guts
grumbling

& we sigh
to remember
that food
& freedom
are not free

is haiti really free
if our babies die starving?
if we cannot write our names
read our rights keep
our leaders in their seats?

can we be free
really? if our mothers are mud? if dead
columbus keeps cursing us
& nothing changes
when we curse back

we are a proud resilient people
though we return to dust daily
salt gray clay with hot black tears
savor snot cakes
over suicide

we are hungry
creative people
sip bits of laughter
when we are thirsty
dance despite

this asthma
called debt
congesting
legendarily liberated
lungs

© 2009 by Lenelle Moïse

queer(ed) femininity #5

www.lenellemoise.com

queer(ed) femininity #4

queer(ed) femininity #3

queer(ed) femininity #2

queer(ed) femininity #1

I have started a new collage series: "The Queer(ed) Femininity Series." Fabric and ink on paper. A few words and lots of color. I am thinking about how we wear our identities like designer labels. I am thinking about my longtime resistance to uniforms. I am "feministing" femininity (again), calling for expansion and boldness.

gender & playwriting

A sigh-inducing New York Magazine article by Winter Miller:
http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2009/06/its_hard_out_there_for_a_femal.html

Grace Jones as Corporate Cannibal?

From June 14-20, I am in residency at New WORLD Theater, working to develop a tourable production of my two-woman play EXPATRIATE. Among other things, the play is about music, friendship, sexual tension and race. To prepare, I've been watching a lot of footage of black women performers who were/are popular in France. Josephine Baker. Nina Simone. LaToya Jackson. Grace Jones. Of these, I find the Grace Jones persona/icon to be one of the most fascinating, appealing and appalling. Take, for example, her 2007 single "Corporate Cannibal." Lyrically, it's a smart and powerful protest against New Imperialism but the racial exoticization featured in the (albeit technologically compelling) music video is way too distracting! Who decided that recycling the tired "black woman as insatiable man/eater" image was going to make the song more palatable and pop? Why did Jones agree to this hyper-sexed (and indulgent) distortion of her features? Does her embodiment of the evil she condemns make sense here? Does "blackness as excess" sell the song or the message in the song? Did she write it? Will viewers miss her critique of hyper-capitalism altogether and dismiss the video as just another cool/weird/avant garde offering? In other words, do you think "Corporate Cannibal" is seen first or heard first? Either way, are you moved?