Postscript, a bi poem by Chrsitine Baynes

Postscript,

To my foster sister. My gemini

Happy parade day

What’s that u write in your letter now…? I mean the four cryptic lines in response to my 500 pages

the topic: our thrilling discussion of sexuality

It’s like communicating with an ancient dragon

If I am completely pure you will not be able to devour me

No idea what you are talking about, though I like the sound of the strange words

Yet I never could possibly accept them, they’re outrageous!

We…them…US? Are you crazy?

(then again when are you ever not crazy)

No idea where you’re going with this

Talk to the hand

            I mouth your words out loud in your voice

            Like a little poltergeist in the pink ribbons my mother has put me in

            Then roll my eyes, smack my lips

            Laugh heartily (but not too loudly) and giggle a little bit and stamp my foot

You (ms bad-mannered low-class bouncer type, sleeps with anything, grungy grungy girl, smells bad too, ew--)

and I--

Principled. Educated. Honest. Okay, a little nerdy, in a space cadet sort of way--

 have Nothing in Common 

(You. the Evil. Brainwasher.). Me the flouncy girly girl with the pageboy hair,

always did have the better neckline,

beautiful like a greek goddess

you were always way too tall your arms strong, wiry 

your coffee eyes how they would probe so deep inside me

hypnotic making me tell all my deepest darkest secrets accidentally

We should look for boys, you said one day all non-chalant, yet excitedly

Pretending to blush but looking right through me

How rather sneaky you are

Flashing eyes like Satan in feline female form

Watching like the Cheshire cat for my response

Like we were about to discover a new country

But why? And, So soon? I replied as if on cue

feeling terribly betrayed looking back at you sadly quizzically suddenly lost

was I too boring

I could read less books!

Try to be more of a n action figure like you for once

And after that I instantly forgot all the magical tomgirl memories

Pushed them down down down

Someplace where no one would ever find them

It was easier somehow just to stuff them, to try to forget

(even if it made me sick)

As one day you just left, taking the better part of me with you

And by the way I’m just FINE, thanks for asking,

 Perfectly normal, right as rain

 It’s still a load of non-sense whatever you were saying

You don’t define me, so there

You’re such a pain, always trying to tell me who I am

It’s just a little postpartum aversion to hetero men

Not that someone as wacko as you would ever understand 

I’m sure it will go away any minute now

(Yet it’s pretty serious this time even I have to admit)

Went to our little local multi-colored parade today

It was nice—considering--

You don’t exactly invite us to Your Shiny translucent Castro Neighborhood

Which you think You Just Own (as usual)…

Hope mom and dad don’t

See me and baby on television in rainbow gear

cuz they are gonna freak, huh?

I wish u were here to take the heat

Not to mention the sunburn                                                           

Standing next to a drunk Native American

In the broad daylight

Who doesn’t know what he is doing there either

Chatting me up

He was kinda cute though

Maybe he was just happy

Maybe he had two spirits

(Like somebody I knew)

           

            …the baby who I refused to gender before birth

(whose shower, yes, you missed)

I just couldn’t

In the ultrasound he looked

So much like you, long ago

anyway never mind about the argument,

what was it about again? can’t quite remember

I do hope it was important though

well, don’t forget how much we miss you

Your little sister & perpetual student

~Lesbian until graduation

 (ps Indian Spirit is still better, any fool like u can ride a Harley)

 Paper. Rock. Scissors.

p.s.p.s. of course I didn’t send it! She’s so damn stoopid (aka that’s how SHE’d spell it) & she never could read fast like I could, she just faked it to impress, the little witch!

Christine Baynes

The Wisdom of Love at Open Secret - Yesterday in San Rafael, Ca.

The Wisdom of Love at Open Secret was the kick off event of the season and it went really well.  We were in a wonderful room, known as The Gallery.  The decor was exotic and artistic, a whole series of statues and other art pieces from India and other countries from the "Far East," where the arts of loving are still known and cultivated by common people (unlike the West, where they've been coopted under the aegis of "science," a modality of knowledge that tends to "normalize" things, endlessly search for some kind of normativity).

   Deborah Taj Anapol, our assistant, and me arrived quite early, and in common agreement decided to enhance the "Oriental" flavor of the event by sitting on the floor, our backs to the center piece: An invitation to attendees to share "the floor" with us, to see us as equals, rather than as "those in the know" who stand up on the podium.  

   We noticed diversity in age groups, background, and other as people milled in.  Greeting people we knew, in those expansive, affectionate ways typical of poly people, was beautiful.  Many new people came in too.  The last touches were put on the sound system, the display table, the videos.  We were blessed with two video makers and their equipment shooting footage throughout the reading.

   We intended a synergy, so each speaker introduced the other speaker's book.  It was good to hear someone whose work I respect so much speak publicly about mine.  Taj definitely did a good job of it.  And I hope I did too.  As the event unfolded, I noticed the presence of my co-speaker, the way she connects with the audience, she relates to them, she is confident they will hear.  Won't necessarily try to please them.  But make them feel alive, yes, she will.  She tucks in a little bit of irony here and there too.  I feel proud to be in this space.  I tuck in a tid bit of irony too, when I make sure people know I'm from Italy but I don't make pizza: Instead, I study history, which leads me into commenting on Anapol's wonderful job of weaving the multiple threads of polyamory's modern history.

   People keep coming in, finding nooks to tuck themselves in, more chairs brought into the room for those unwilling to imitate our yogic positions.  Everybody seems comfy enough in this heart-opening space.  We go across the room asking people to introduce themselves: "What brings you here? why is polyamory interesting to you?"  This is California and I'm always amazed about how much people are willing to share--even in a room full of strangers--about themselves, their personal experiences.  My mind goes back to the early years of my arrival in this region, when I was so impressed by this behavior, this trust, this willingness, this faith that if you put out what resonates as authentic for you, then your eagerness will attract toward you exactly what you wish.  And I took that one on big time of course when I put out my own slightly disguised life story in my first narrative book, Eros, which managed, as it were, to attract into my life exactly what I wished.  With all this eager way of being into the world that I've sucked in, I'm reminded of why I call California my second matria (she/homeland), with the first one being Italy and the third one Puerto Rico.

   Next section is the actual reading.  I go first and read a very short piece.  There is attention, eagerness in the room.  I am careful.  I know what I have to say does not sound pleasant to all people.  That the Earth is not a "mother" who loves us and protects us.  That, according to scientists, Gaia, the live planet, is actually a "tough botch" who will get of us if we continue to abuse her.  There are many attentive minds in the room, I sense the words begin to resonate with people, "unusual words this foreigner speaks, she uses our language, but why does she say such strange, such outrageous things? And why, strangely enough, some of them begin to make sense too?"  We pause for questions, and there are many more than we can answer.  The synergy begins to work there too.  Anapol and I find ourselves answering each other's questions.  In other words, there is a question and I take it, then she pitches in and the answer becomes more complete.    

  Then her turn comes to read.  She announces a couple of things.  She begins to read from the chapter about why people choose polyamory.  Of course her theory is smart and minimalist: "people choose polyamory for a variety of reasons."  In other words, "if you, reader, were expecting some pathological explanation for why one would make such an unusual choice, you're not going to get one here.  I am the expert, and I guarantee you: Reasons are so different that no single, unique cause does exist.  So, get used to it!" 

   Love comes in many shapes, and the more the better.  

   Anapol's reading time is quite short too. 

   Interesting questions start to come in, and the discussion opens up as we take turns and offer different takes on them.  Many more hands are up with a bunch of interesting ideas, desire to put them on the table, debate them.   We realize time has run out.  It's almost time for the store to close.  We are quite happy that we've created such multifarious interests.  We break up the circle.  Invite everyone to join us again on July 3rd too.  

   There is a little more time to wrap things up.  A few people approach me, they want copies of the books. Others approach Anapol.  Unfortunately, her book, the three-cherry-cover book, has not arrived yet.  Que lastima! my friends would say in Puerto Rico.  I write down a few dedications, signatures.  It's good to think that these people will read for themselves, will make the effort to stretch their imagination as far as I intend to take them.  Maybe some of them will let me know what they think, they will inspire me for next project.  

   Goodbyes are another golden opportunity to manifest poly expansiveness, to express our willingness to share love and affection.  More hugs, more eye contact and warm thank yous.  We even manage a quick three-way hug with two of the participants.  Time to thank the host and pack our things.  We realize the filming has been going on very smoothly, unobtrusively.  It's like, there was filming, but this wasn't about being filmed.  it just happened, naturally, with the process of recording integrated in the real thing.  We haven't even had the time to thank the video makers, they've already disappeared.  We get our things out to the car.  

   It feels like the end of a good evening.  

   We're off to Harbin Hot Springs tomorrow for the World Polyamory Association meeting. 

   Posted by Serena Anderlini-D'Onofrio

   Oakland, Ca., June 23, 2010