A secret game! Our dangerous game! 

We are devious children. You are pink

and sweet, kid brother–glass ballerina

in a snow globe. Does Daddy clap

when you curtsy? I am wearing

a football jersey. 

You are dressed in my Christmas frock. 

How dull its ruffles, useless as bubbles

in bathwater. I am buckling my

GI Joe’s helmet. 

You are nursing my Kewpie.

It is confusing. A goose is a goose,

isn’t good for the gander.

Daddy has taken his duck decoys

hunting. When he gets home, 

I will bathe them. I love

to go hunting with Daddy, but I hate

killing. The wetlands console me–

a flat, stinking afterlife. 

I want to spray buckshot 

through a sky as blue

as my eyes. I want Daddy

to look up, and notice. 

Kid, let’s play musical chairs. 

Once the music stops playing, 

who is left standing? A son

or a daughter? If we pick wrong, 

Daddy won’t love us. Pin the Tail

on the Donkey. Let’s spin

‘til we fall. Untie my blindfold. Look! 

You have a penis, 

while I have none. Does Daddy see us, 

carved in marble–his two, beautiful goddesses?

Kid, you can’t catch a ball. You can’t split

a lip. You don’t know where he hides his

vodka. Daddy never wanted two

daughters. I never tried to be the son

he wanted. I didn’t ask him

 to carry my picture in his wallet.

Where is your picture? Is that why

you wound me? If I am the son 

he always wanted, why does

he wound me? Why does he call me his 

rattlesnake daughter? Did you hear him say

no man will marry me?

Answer me, gentle boy

at the bus stop, noosed in a necktie,

lugging a briefcase, to look like

your Daddy. What is your name? 

Gnome banker, Gnome banker. Our Daddy

mocked you. He wanted a line-backer 

like his daughter. Tiny dancer,

I will protect you. From Daddy’s

cruel words. From your third-grade

teacher who slapped you, dear sweetheart,

for kissing a boy. From being the son

that Daddy wanted. Let’s play

musical chairs, musical queers. Who

is left standing? This chair is yours,

my beloved. It is confusing. A goose

is a goose, isn’t good for the gander.

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