The Poem Formerly Known as the Poem Formerly Known as Stupid

If I could begin again, I’d be wise.
I mean, I’d be a drummer,
not a poet. I’d be an ancient moose
in Algonquin Park happening upon two
hikers in a declining empire of red
leaves. I’d walk
toward the couple to startle them
because I’m MASSIVE & since a poem
is a passing glance & my antlers
are an autumn elegy, they’ll soon fall
into snow & I’ll be bald.

If I could begin again, I’d argue.
I’d resist. What is life without people
to disagree with?
Did I mention drumming? A poem
is percussion & the sound of my husband,
a declining empire of one
insisting that poetry is a lost
language. I wrote a stanza
to disagree with him & one to the stupid
doctor who said I engage too much
in anal sex, inviting disease.

&/or I’d be a triolet that masquerades
as a Rengay at night, dancing
shirtless at the club & in the morning,
a sonnet with four turns. I’d name myself
Turnette, in my silk dressing gown.
I’d start a trend. I hate trends though,
the long, clever poem title for example
& the trend of people erasing each other.

But I adore the ampersand, symbol
of metaphor & balance. Both
&. I’ll alternate my sandstone lines
with a meandering saltwater moat,
filled with friendly hammerheads. Sharks
survived two millennia, through the ice
age, toxic masculinity & Jaws.
Great whites are making a comeback
after endangerment. Who
else? If I could begin
again, I’d resurrect our calm, care
about trees.

There’s no algorithm
for stupid, RuPaul says. But she means a kind
of stupid that is silly, lovely wise.
If I could, I’d be as tender with words
as with husbands & I’d hammer
out pine dining chairs into cellos
in this declining empire of misreading,
of dissing, of missing happy
endings. I’ll write
about drag story-time
helping us find the artists we are.

To begin, I’ll dress
in my favorite drag, a stupid poem
containing my whole vocabulary
written on a papyrus scroll & I’ll sashay
over a drawbridge as trumpets bleat
my arrival. I’ll pet the sharks
on their snouts & visit the queen
of all queens at her gold & sapphire
throne. I’ll kneel before her
& read my poem aloud until I learn
something. I’ll stay for days.
there is so much to say.