“Now I’m Not a Transexual…”

Nicholas Powers Apr 10, 2009

Indy Readers,

A couple nights ago, I was on the train and the man next to me wore an Obama pin. We got to talking and he told me at night he dreams he’s Michelle laying next to Obama. He actually began, “Now, I’m not transexual but…” and listed the gooey details. It was clear this was his fantasy life. My stop came and I quickly left but his voice stayed in my head. Later I wrung it into a persona poem. Is his obsessive fantasy a small sign of a larger shift in our consciousness? Do we live a “second life” through the Obamas?

It explains the feverish magnifying of their every domestic detail. What dog are they getting? What kind of swing set for the kids? What shows does he watch? The voracious consuming of their imagery is because they are the first Presidential Family we can identify with and since each of us has an intimate life, it’s inevitable that some would project themselves into the Lincoln bedroom.

So the man’s fantasy doesn’t seem strange but is the far end of this mainstream sanctioned cult of personality. I don’t know if the guy I met reads the Indy but I hope he sees this and asks what the cost of living in the White House is on his real life.

Dear Michelle,

I’m not transexual, but
each night I leave my body
and become you laying next
to Him, to Barack, or do you
call him Barry, his easy
American name that he
allows you to keep like
a souvenir. Or do you
call him Bar, his childhood
tag because you reach
and stroke the places
his mother once did?

How should I touch him?
How do I rub his chest after
he’s worn the nation’s destiny
like armor?
How do I kiss his world weary
tongue until our mouths empty?
How do I straddle him
with my hips until
the pulse of life’s origin
overwhelms him and panting
he reaches for me.

Sometimes Michelle, I touch
his chest and imagine holes
left by assassins bullets
and fill each one with
the word “no”.
He snores so loudly.
I know he is not mine, or yours
or even his own.
He is ours. Even in sleep
we reach through you
as you reach
for each other
until nothing
stands in the way
of our future.

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