They call me woman.Or wo man.One part that makes up two binaries.I ask myself, what is gender, if not other, and why does it have to be a part of me?Stuck between boundaries,I’m told what I can and can’t be,when the only person I seek ismy authentic way of being.If art is expressionand a form of resistance,and my gender is…

I sit here as an Environmentalist,In our Anthropocene,Studying the damaging effects of capitalism,Like our devastating dependence on gasoline. Pipelines reaching from coast to coast,Polluting our basic necessities,Earth, air, and water,Turned into commodities.Like the white man’s stomach isn’t already full, Feasting on other’s health hazardous misery,He sinks his teeth in deeper,Sucking us dryAnd getting one more bloody victory.Welcome to America,Is this…