Mason Pierce: Boys Don't Cry

Photo: Joanna C. Valente

BOYS DON’T CRY

daughter, sister, & friend.

A boy. fragmented.

Creation of Adam, dropped.

A fresco shatter some kind of Picasso.

Where there was man there is blank space, turned inward.

Nebraskan trailer, I don’t belong here.

My mother calls me by a different name,

speaking suddenly

let’s go see the doctor dear.

Tom & John are

swell fellows, I think.

Right name, they say and

nobody can tell me apart.

The cat’s out of the bag.

I’m under the bed,

bang bang

it is very cold christmas lights are twinkling

this twilight is sharp and then blackness.

RIOT

I wake and tumble out of bed

carpet squish under my toes, at the table

I read the news. It says

in the last 365 days 26 trans women were reported murdered.

I know rage but I am trying to know

 something else.

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Mason Pierce is a Portland law student and part-time poet. He lives in the city with his fianceé and two cats. In both academics and art, Mason is passionate about pursuing better representation for trans & queer folks.