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A Day in the Life by Roanoke Poet ‘Onward’ read her poem “A Day in the Life for Star City Poet’s Society Inaugural Poetry Open Mic at Big Lick Brewing Company last month.
This is currently in Print Issue #50.
Robyn Lowery was misattributed in the print edition.
A Day in the Life
It’s a nice warm COVID-19 day.
I’m out to pick up a prescription.
Think I’ll doll it up a little.
V-neck tie die.
Hip huggers and sling backs.
Rainbow butterfly earrings.
A little something to
lighten up the pandemic.
Guy at the pharmacy counter,
“Hi darling”.
Snarky smile like he’s
doing me a favor.
Am I going to have to
take a shower when I get home?
And yet…
I’m headed back toward the front of the store.
A gentleman is headed to the pharmacy.
I give him a happy virus day nod as we pass.
“Hi, sweetheart”, he says.
“What?” I almost say as I turn with an incredulous look.
No man better call me that
unless we are lovers and there is
wine and chocolate involved.
Who does he think he is?
And yet…
I leave CVS with a
silly grin beneath my mask,
all sparkly eyed and shit. Because,
there is one thing that I
and those two chauvinist men
have agreed on:
(over)
I am a woman!
Such a pesky paradox.
As a woman, I am offended.
As a trans woman, I am pleased.
But, then that is part of why
this silly, I love life, grin.
I am living a paradox
and loving it!
Like when I charmed the pants off
a waiter who just clocked me and
didn’t know what to do with it.
He’s attentive, but the wheels are turning –
“What would you like to drink,
er, ah, Ma’am,” with a nervous smile.
Sooo cute! In his bow tie and innocence.
Like when I got pulled for no tail light.
“May I see your license Ma’am, ah Sir, er ah Ma’am.”
Classic triple take.
Poor guy must have had
some diversity training
and was doing his best.
Teachable moments – I love it!
Except when I get tired of doing
somebody’s homework for them.
How about you un-woke cis folks being a little
pro-active. You’ve got the internet
for fuck’s sake.
Like when I was in for surgery
and the chart says – “patient name: Erika” and
the recovery nurse is throwing “hes” and “hims”
in my direction like I’m deaf
or just don’t count.
Like when I’m practicing my bank shots
and getting a little bored and see this guy
two tables over. “Wanna shoot a few”, I say.
He looks me up and down and replies, “Sure,
as long as you don’t come on to me.”
I say to myself, “In your dreams, Biff.
Think with your dick, why don’t you.”
Gen – der I – den – ti – ty,
not just penis and vagina.
So much more room for nuance,
surprise, authenticity, discovery.
I am a human, born with a penis,
who feels every ounce a woman.
What’s so difficult about that?
Just accept it and let’s get on with living.
There is so much more to life
than plumbing and pipe fitting.
Think outside the box.
Keep your genitals in and
air out your mind instead.
Parallel pandemics.
Virus droplets and sleazy men.
COVID-19 and transphobia.
I get home and take off my N-95.
That silly grin is still there.
A little something to
lighten up the pandemic.
by Erika Joyner
