 Can you all hear me? Okay, cool. So show us your spine. So how it worked. And this is also, again, thanks to Mason, too, with, like, okay, well, what are we going to use and what am I going to really draw upon? And so there's two. There's Pat Parker, and there's the one and only Joel Gomez who's actually here present. Those are the two Black, lesbian, women, poets, artists, freedom fighters that I was formally introduced to, actually, and was able to really go through their work and what is available with Pat Parker. So you'll see here what's listed, some of what she's published in her heyday and then she's also been featured in multiple anthologies. And so what is upstairs are these, there's a total of four poems, two that are handwritten and one typed. And the two that are handwritten have a theme about hands. And it's like, well, the first to the, what is it, left, one is like, I've seen your hands old, cracked with creation. And the next piece goes into the themes of molding yourself to freedom. And from Pat, I've wrote two poems can you have to be telling me some time, like cues because I don't want to go over one minute. Oh, maybe give me like three minutes. I want to be like a transitional point. Sorry. Yeah, fuck it. I might even try to look at my notes because I will get lost in what I've done. I just remember going up there, going through these pages, writing notes and so from Pat, I have Magnolia and Jasmine. And these pieces came out kind of exploring ways on how, like, where does it mean to be queer and sensual? Queer and where the fierce warrior within is resting and where it becomes intimate and where it becomes soft. And that, you know, I mean, I come in, I, like, personally I always come off hella hard but and feral in many ways I still am. Like, kind of like the deep within, I don't know, just kind of experimenting on what does it mean or how can freedom also be intimate and sexual and sensual. So we'll go with it. And I drew from that because of the hands and then also this poem where she goes in, where she wrote, from my bedroom window, the city lights are calm and I think of you. My body, and I wish it was you. She goes on and so that was, like, kind of a point of, like, okay, I'm going to jump off from here. All right, so that's me flapping my tongue. Are you ready to hear some poetry? Okay, cool. Your hands forge freedom and unshakable knowing your worth is your breath. No one confirms your merit defines your value. Pacific winds have summoned you. They sing your name from the palm of your rhythm to the arteries pushing waves. Your bones penetrate pavement. Each centennial finger knows the walls broken down from sunrise to moonset. Each limb grows through the obstruction obliterating fear you blossom near thick glaring leaves emanating your shine your dance your love unfazed unfurled you stretch your arms extend your eyes you watch trap souls trap others for prizes lost souls doped up on any and all narcotics souls struggling to recognize their own light only those who seek see you feel you recognize your breath through trees you digest the wretched odor of these eased bodies you release a fragrance sleepless beetles yearned for. Thank you. That's one. Next one I have is Jasmine and this is definitely like an emulation of this piece that you see here. When drones surveil from a scant star shuttering sky military tests new aircraft burgundy clouds haunt city lights memories of you unroll in my bedroom I lay there naked under blankets perspiring a desire to have your lips touch mine to have your fingers and thighs baptize me to have your long hair be the petals of my bliss I can still taste Jasmine on my quivering breath on hot days you place the fresh flower in our cool waters and we swung under a waxing moon embracing each other at multiple angles I listen to my own heartbeat as hands explore the mountains and canyons of my own body I open imagining our volvas breathing into each other my head leans back thighs further widen I come gushing gasping gulping for more Jasmine water Thank you. These next two pieces I have Hyacinth and Ghazania were inspired by the archival footage of Jewell Gomez now she has six boxes like Pat Parker had like a folder okay thank you oh my god and so going through six boxes I broke a sweat and I was just like trying because you know they're all really categorized but from what I found it was a mixture of drafts from chapter one out of the past and there were phrases that she used for instance like lightning rod butches and when she did workshops and correct me if I'm wrong you taught at Hunter College or yes okay so one of the materials that she brought was this article compulsory heterosexuality and lesbian existence and so going through this and drafts of oral tradition I have two poems that I would like to close out with if I may and then I'll be out okay we moan in motion the ocean floor spreads our fragrance the breath correspondence made between sun and moon water either rises or recedes they listen to love mother earth births new land drowning islands continents question their boundaries will we transform diverge converge in the millennia after stonewall or will we remain isolated by a sea of compulsory heterosexuality heteronormativity hetero it is my right to rape and kill a woman deny her choice in society hetero let's lynch a black fag hetero colonialist hetero imperialist hetero hatred for all non white non cisgendered men hetero no we magnetic shimmery lithospheric held by a moonlit black sky we genderless colorful holding divine feminine in the curvature of each petal we courageously sprawl our hips legs lips we the hyacinth a passionate purportal procession watered by apollonian tears we sprout from slain blood zephyr killed in jealousy from his treachery we blossom we glitter latex stitch our paths over countless rainbows we find each other so there's a couple like this at one interview I'm gonna close out with this one and she talks about fems and then there's like this anecdote with her grandmother like what a high fem is and so I'll go with this vivid velvety sunrises each florid extinguishable each exhaled color you irresistibly long to kiss caress with honeyed fingers we blossom the flames of your yearning to taste butter on your tongue on your fingers feel the fatty cream gently cascade down your left leg you want us more than shine more than the holiness of kin we are treasure among sequined stars rhinestone laughter we exceed the price of elephant tusk our riches erect lightning rod butchers our leaves the greenest our walk the flow of rivers each petal opens the widest when planted in full sun grandmother would say we high fems on our best days when handkerchiefs nuzzle back pockets when dresses silhouette the galaxies of our bodies when puckered up tangerine lips and black stilettos staying no one true bonafide fems an electrifying landscape legends defying myths repackage redesign reinvent the aesthetics of femininity we fems unapologetically arrive unannounced thank you