The Winter Poetry Issue: Rin Johnson


**I ponder a woman**

In the midst of emancipation

Wrung out in the sun

Something to hitch meat to




**patience or whatever**

sophia says that jen said that she grew out her hair to learn patience and sophia says that she grew out her hair to learn patience too. i don’t know shit about patience but i know sophia learned patience from growing out her hair, which is now so long that it touches her butt and falls out all the time. sometimes i see the clippers on the top shelf of the ikea bathroom cabinet that i pay too much money a day to look at, a price i split with my dog and my father. my father showed me the other day that sometimes to close a bag you have to expand it. he said “relax, watch and you might learn something.” damn. he knows how much i love learning. my father is patient, but he has short hair. my father and i look exactly the same and sound exactly alike. we both drink too much but he is patient and i am not. seeing those clippers i just want to call the whole thing off. what dyke needs long hair? am i a dyke? jess looks good in her long hair but is jess a dyke? or is jess a patient dyke? why can’t i be patient like jess. i’m so tired of being Black and Gay in the United States, i want to move back to Europe but you can’t just move back to Europe when you’re Black and Gay in the United States. i’m so tired because i don’t have any patience, apparently it gets Better. sophia’s dad said that i cannot visit the monastery on the other

side of the Hudson until i learn to be patient. my hair is only an inch long if i don’t blow-dry it. i wish it would fall out like sophia’s. sometimes i think all i have is sophia and her dog and my dog who is her dog’s brother. i know that isn’t true but sometimes that is what i think. i have jet lag and stay up late and i read art forum and eileen myles and i miss my girlfriend and i think about how terrible i am to be able to be so impatient and so able to miss. i fail and i fail and i fail. but jen grew out her hair to learn patience and so if i just let mine keep growing maybe i’ll learn something.

**You can fuck women and still love them, right?**

I think this all the time when I have my 7 inches of silicone inside of someone’s pussy. I care for you so I choke you. I care for you so I objectify you. You look like my new headphones. You look like my new adidas. You look tired in the hot way. Thank you for letting me pretend to come inside you. Trans-men are the worst. Actually I am the worst. Am I trans or just a dyke who is too lazy to get top surgery? Must resist labeling self. Must resist desire for more adidas. Must stop being so lazy. I did not even change my pronouns everybody else did it for me. Or everybody else that looks like me changed their pronouns and so by looking like them I changed mine too. I have dyke tattooed on the back of my neck. Or I’ve been dragged into the revolution. I’m not mad, just submissive. Bottoming from the top – is that a thing? Sarah said everybody is secretly a bottom because we’d all rather not think about anything- just show up and cum. So it seems it’s they and them and theirs not she or her or hers. After all that herbal testosterone, one day I could use the women’s restroom and then another day I could not. The only problem is that women’s restrooms are cleaner but I can’t scare little girls anymore. Not for a clean restroom. I’m not that fucked up. Or Am I? Must resist going to therapy. Must resist resolving mommy issues. Must resist resolving daddy issues. Must resist gender. Besides, men don’t blink when you go to

the stall. Some men like to sit they think. I always forget I cannot talk in the men’s restroom; my balls have not dropped yet. They won’t. They will. They have. They have not. At least my daddy is rich and my mother is good looking and the water from the tap is clean with a Brita and I have a studio where I make objects to objectify and stick my dick into. I have ok skin now that I am older and I’m pretty cute with my glasses on. The revolution looks ok on my hips and in my boxer briefs. If I drink more Soylent I bet it will look even better. I am not that old because I still get carded but I am old enough to never want to be out unless someone tells me where I am going. You can fuck women and still love them. I’m going to bottom out. I’ll take it from behind. Whatever. I don’t care. Please don’t touch me. I’m sorry. Please touch me. You look great. I should go.

*Rin Johnson is a Brooklyn based sculptor and poet. Moving between Virtual Reality, sculpture and the printed word, Johnson has exhibited and read in Europe and the US. Johnson is the author of two books,* (2) *and the forthcoming VR Book* , “Meet in the Corner” *from* * (3)* *. Johnson founded* * (4)* *(a space for liquid poetry) with Sophia Le Fraga. To see more of Johnson’s work visit* * (1)* *.*

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