Judgement is a Drag

Judgement is a Drag


Picture this

You – an image of Warhol-esque gaudiness

Applauded upon the stage

A platform you laid claim to like royalty

Certain of your right to be

Upon it

That royalty lived there too in the vivid blue hue

Of your audacious

Slashed hem dress

A royalty scared frigid by that thigh high split

Oh you, you raucous provocateur

Luring us watchers into hypnotics

As we sat enthralled by

The angry contrast

Of your azure gown

With your unruly crimson crown

Oh so very glamorous

Now as you paraded with

Stage-owning arrogance

In your haughty sky-high heeled strut

The words you spoke to us tempered your edges

For you professed such poetic splendour

Enlisting a language of a bygone era

To spin your tales of mystic realms

And planes crafted somewhere

In the vastness

Of your ambitious imagination

Keats and Yeats held nothing to you

Oh, the freshest revelation of you

You created a juxtaposition

Justly set to challenge us

Setting us off kilter with your

Quick-witted obnoxious indifference

Yet all the while

Reciting lyrical exquisiteness

As a final hat tip to the vintage graphic

Your performance was finished

With a humble bow


To describe you

As a man dressed as a woman

Seems somewhat irrelevant information

Certainly paling in comparison

To the apparition you presented

Yet at the time it invited interest

Because undeniably you were different

And undeniably you did know it

So to start off, your every word was a goad

Go on – dare to compare

Dare to look at me and see anything other than

The prowess of my vocabulary

You trembled with poignant indignation

Our fascination with you both repellent and intriguing

As you teetered on the precipice

Of our judgements

Your blasé attitude rippled with guarded fissures

Threatening exposure

And oh you were edgy


For a fight

That never came

Because as soon as you began your verse

It didn't matter who or what you were

So I think let's follow

The acknowledgement of the audience that night

And cast off our illogical obsession with definition

Because the futile manufacture of gender

Is one that will censor and slow the process

Of person to person interpretation

And to waste the time we have in deciphering labels

Is an unattainable luxury

So why not agree

That – yes - gender is a social construct alright

And one socially defined by a society driven by tunnel vision

Which to me doesn't make for the most valid of opinions

You are and were you, in whatever 'you' you want to be

And let me tell you, to me, you were man, you were woman

You were diva, you were midden, you were gruff and bright and colossal and magnificent

Diversity your name is poet

A resplendent entity

Let's see more of it