 It's interesting to be in a room with mostly people I don't really know so So I'm gonna tell you my life story in poetry I'm actually So I was in a car accident two years ago and Broke a bunch of bones and was you know sort of dramatically told maybe I wouldn't walk again and all that stuff and And I didn't you know I just sort of ignored them And I would you know and it's like When you have a lot of trauma and pain your body does all these really kind of amazing things You know it your body knows More or less how to heal you know I mean yes with a lot of intervention and a lot of like polls that are down my legs too, but but It just you know it just I it allowed me to forget a lot of the pain and mostly remember that you know Like I had I got to rest you know people came to visit me I didn't have to go anywhere because I was in bed. I couldn't leave the bed You know I had I had meals you know So I I just I think about that a lot as a lot I see a lot of friends being stressed out about life and and I think for the first time in my life I'm not stressed out. I may not be making a whole lot of money but I'm kind of you know chill and peaceful and Trying to figure it out and you know, some people are working on like being in the present moment I'm like, that's all I know how to do. I don't really know how to plan for the future any more Like I used to have like five-year plans So, you know sometimes I worry about that but so here's You know when you were talking about writing about grief a lot of people also were like Oh, you're gonna have so much to write about you know, I didn't write about shit I took pictures of of you know, my friend's dog Like I took like 300 pictures like and that dog was just willing to like pose and everything You know, but I had hoped I'd be like Frida, you know like drawing or like writing my life Anyways, when I finally was able to write one piece. This this is what came out. So it's called learning how to drive Learn to drive in your 14 because your friends drink too much and you want to get home safely Practice driving early in the morning in your friend's car before anyone is on the flat road around rose bushes brick flower beds There should be a speed bump there as you count how many pets you've lost to those careening around the corner Practice driving stick around the neighborhood and pretend you've never been in the car seat when your father attempts to teach you at 15 and a half Mom's turn includes her leg reaching over from the passenger side over to the break Actually learn to drive on a tractor when you're 12 years old visiting a farm somewhere in Washington state Learn to drive a boat off the coast of California when you're eight drive slowly drive fast stall at red lights Drive flight simulators and car video games dream of driving as a declaration of independence Drive in a foreign country where road signs are just a suggestion Break 36 bones in your body in a head-on collision a road You've carefully traced before Seeing your mother's phone number when you wake up as they are dragging you out of your car onto the concrete When a man peering over you says you're gonna be fine repeat over and over. I'm gonna be fine. I'm gonna be fine I'm gonna be fine until you black out Wake up to a woman in a helmet slamming a helicopter door shut or is it sliding or am I swimming? The man peers over you again and says you're gonna be fine You are wrapped up tightly on a gurney. You can't feel your body like a floating head atop a warm loaf of bread You repeat. I'm gonna be fine and slur the words. Do you want to know my mama's phone number as You repeat her number over and over a warm liquid rushes through you and you black out again Wake up with a mask over your nose and mouth a tube down your throat Lights bright. Am I a cyborg? Can I breathe on my own? Remember the look on the faces of people who see you for the first time Something must be terribly wrong with my face. You think a Cop with aggressive questions. Yes, I'll breathe in check my levels record my zeros. You know this will be important Remember the bright lights. Is this what the end looks like two glowing saucers eye level coming at your head Slam breaks your legs feel as if they busted through the bottom of your car like flinstone breaks Except heels and femurs and tibias and tarsals break instead Think I don't know this can't be happening. How can I stop what is happening? seconds less than even one 36 bones you repeat months later several times into the phone the bones can heal Stronger 36. Can I just get my pain medicine wait 36 minutes the one the doctor said I needed said medically necessary No previous history of addiction. No previous history of 36 bones Can you make the ninja knives slashing the electric creepy crawlies jumping stabbing stop for a little? The frame that holds your body can be stronger by being broken the squishy middle wrapped around the frame We must deal with the structure first even though I know it hurts on a scale of one to ten How's your pain? Oh an 11? Give no easy answers to impatient questions Curious strangers want to know want you to live relive your horror to satisfy for their benefit Every be careful becomes a see I told you so Don't ask unless you can handle the next few years of holding and hearing what it's like. Thank you So this piece is Called church at night and it is for Orlando And it's just you know some of the lines to me kind of mess me up over and over again because it's just you know So many shootings and things happening and you know, maybe we're just more aware of it There's definitely more bodies, you know a building body count and You know, it's just it's really intense because it's not like people don't get killed or shot every single day But you know, it's just it's it's sort of all of these things happening We can't help but those of us who are kind of like think that there's metaphors everywhere or symbols or you know Or or screaming, you know, like the earth is screaming at us Just trying to tell us something but here. I'm just trying to tell some stories. So church at night Every time I think of Orlando, I mean Orlando with extra Spanish flourish an ornate word to Decorate to trim to edge paintings on a map mark ballad II conquest stories In La Florida a flourish is missing the most colorful of its flowers so many now without a pulse The beat remains while they beat our remains Some for political gain our thoughts and prayers, but nothing else are with you Let's play smear the queer so you know what happens lifeless after a night set aside for the truly living In your cutest jeans once the worst of your fears. Will I get my life tonight? Not that your death might be your coming-out story or that your last selfie would be used to identify you By family across borders who loved you and depended on you because documents even matter in the afterlife a Night out in the open because others had danced and defied and rioted Heels and bricks against pigs with nightsticks Patty wagons and little dicks on power trips getting off on just doing our job. Keep the peace They fought so that we could feel free however brief to get our life la vida en el ambiente con la familia and Posts mis nenas chulos locas hermosos when I heard your names I could barely catch my breath the Anthony's the Frankie's the John Carlos is the Amanda's the Martinez the Luisa's the Mercedes the Marisol's the Enrique's Brown boys grown men girls and women floating on the gender spectrum Family and friends hanging out with the children of the night The Simons the Hilberto's the Javier's the Oscars the Miguel Angles the Jorge's the Joels Mostly 20-year-olds barely experienced enough to fear anything proudly sissy boys beefcakes bears Butchers and fabulous fams The Jason's the Cori's the Juan's the Shane's the Ramon's the Brenda's the Stanley's the Rodolfo's the Antonio's Gorditas and flaquitas puercos perras putas and Jotas matcha's and mariposa's The Darrell's the Tevin's the Deonka's the Leroy's the Peters the Paul's the Frank's the Yilmari's the Jonathan's the Kimberley's the Edwards the Rardos the Angles trans girls maricones drag queens club kids Lightning on the dance floor the Eddie's the Akira's the Christopher's the Rardos the Eric's school girls businessmen loyal husbands bartenders DJs and go-go dancers without 401ks pension plans or health care Puerto Ricans Mexican Salvadorans Afro-Latinos I Think of every gay bar and the rare surviving dyke bars with their once a month if we're lucky once a week Latin music nights The Noche de Curecumbias the placitas the pendulces las coelitas the mangoes la bota loca the butters the circus arena Wet cuchillicious splash Some decorated like a year-round quinceañera some small like dancing in someone's living room executive suites esta noche chuparosa papichulo the boss pulse and and What was that one for lesbians that was at the flower market in San Francisco once a month? Ah, yes Canela with those old school mujeres that have been together for years Where we made out in the bathroom that one time as if we were teenagers because we never got to be romantic queer teens Do you remember the names of your first gay bars house parties tea at early afternoon tea dances and a special POC or Latinx nights How we'd meet up to get ready a few drinks before entry to save our dollars for tacos Drinks report to save our dollars for tacos to soak up the nightlife in our belly With each precious face on the screen I am right back in every club in every small town in big city where I have loved and lived and made out with dates and lovers People who identified one way and then maybe identified another That one allegedly straight girl who drank too much and wanted to dance up all on you But you promised yourself no more dance floor social work Could lead to hours of unpaid service Gay boyfriends would eventually disappear into the crowd some of us had codes don't leave the club without me girl Our safe word will be cucumber Others we don't worry about They'll be back in a few minutes or we'll check in tomorrow The shy ones slowly sipping their beer in the corner not fully fitting in anywhere We sang to all the divas La India Dahlia Selina Paulina Gloria Sonora dinamita Crushed on gay cowboys with their pressed slacks and matching boots belts and hats Holding each other tight no matter who they went home to and the butchers and boys that gave me dollars to press tips to the chichis of every dancing queen I Am still not ready to be coherent or make connections. I will never be ready to wake up to this news I'm trying to keep it moving not sure why the world keeps spinning the church bells keep ringing I want action instead of wishes don't whitewash this story I need your prayers and thoughts to get more specific and start asking why How he overstayed his visa leaving the violence in his country for this Some families can't get here mothers and fathers seeking humanitarian permissions who just want to mourn their babies Erasure revictimizes you I Thought the tears had stopped for now and then I get that lovely text message from a fellow hota And I think about our precious lives and our relationship to the nightlife Where we gossiped and made out and hungered to be looked at and wanted and screened the lyrics to our favorite songs Pastile condoms flyers for services then cheered the girls and boys putting on a show How the boys accidentally or maybe not so would cruise the butch on my arm and Because man, I've been to plenty a straight bar that I think are just called bars When the bartender friend of your brothers will point and holler and you and Objectify our kisses and you will say nothing and I will have to get rowdy and tell him to get out of my fucking Face and I can't say I've always been intentionally queer that came with a fight hard one through shyness and intimidation Took years after kissing enough them frogs and butch toads We were not perfect, but at least in the church a la hotaria and Marie Connada I Could pull my date close the tenderest of queers and she would giggle and say she's too soft to be called butch And I would say I'll call you whatever pronoun or poetic identifier You want so long as we can make out? Queerly beloved are we are gathered here today to get through this thing lot called life our stories stretched across bloodlines Backrooms and borderlines. We're tired of morning brown kids shot by entitled pigs with guns not meant to stop but to destroy We shouldn't have to carry arms on hips meant for dancing pretending that makes us safe We remember on our dance through our worst fears. How do we even have any more tears? Our job is to keep the beat going because the pulse never stopped finding love in hopeless places We're tired of being so resilient, but love beats here. Thank you