G. A. H. T. /// INTERSECTIONALITY
By Elizander Espenschied
The woman on the stage feels more comfortable as a black woman than I ever have.
Her bright purple weave and my curly mullet are different means to different ends.
A spotlight illuminates golden fringe on command.
My father’s pride in his sons is conveyed through drunken dinner preparations.
A white man that looks like every white man is talking at me and I like it.
In counting down the four-way tie, I abstain.
An Eddie Vedder type with an acoustic guitar almost ruins the end of a Twin Peaks episode.
My burnt tongue rolls around in my mouth, impatient.
Seven adjacent compartments track the time, but I wait for the needle.
An adult man sprouts from an immature girl’s body.
Snails and bears can occupy the same habitat.
A lizard is, by definition, both the institution and the fugitive.