but apparently
doesn't see
there have been subtle changes
in someone
like me.
The music starts to play
with the precision
of a clock.
At the sound of Tchaikovsky
I would like
to balk.
So I protest my restraint
with the will
to be free
and take
the next step
quite naturally.
She's just a little girl.
How can
she know
when a ballerina
is getting tired
of this peep show.
Now don't get me wrong.
I'll still do a pirouette
for you.
It's only now
that a gender change
is long overdue.
I wear a jockstrap
with big
hairy legs
as the anarchist in me
teases
and begs.
This moment is high camp
although
not insincere.
Please accept me now
when my culture
is queer.
I require liberation
and the right
to survive.
Oh darling,
I'm thrilled
to be finally alive.
So if I am a prisoner of fate
and here
all alone
then let this music box
be
my comfort zone!
**************************************************