Claudia Rodriguez

I am that kid that you blow up abortion clinics to save! Collateral damage those whose flesh got torn in the mess that’s what you get for having such thin skin. I believe in my cause nothing gives me pause. Nothing gives you pause, pass laws that cut close, shave those rights for that woman who carried me. You didn’t reach her, she did it on her own decided to keep her fetus protected, clothed and fed us me and my sisters. The others she also chose to keep, if you keep you have to provide. She came here just for that to provide and you call me an anchor keeping my mother rooted to your country, your life line. But it is my life you want to save isn’t it? Isn’t that why you blow up abortion clinics scare doctors away from doing the healing but women will have their way lets do it with healing. Don’t take away her right to control her life don’t take away her right to provide for the lives that you too say you cherish so mu

So gay it's straight Like a steel refrigerator Cold milk, olives and beer. Porky, rolly Polly Stalky like the tin man But yes con un corazón Que siente tu ausencia Siempre te recodare como mi travel Buddy compartiendo habitaciones Hábitos como el de cantar por las mañanas "Despierta, despierta Claudia," eres como el sol Interceptando mis sueños Brillante como una sonrisa Una mañana joven me conosistes Y un anochecer New Year's Eve te reencontré bajo esa luna, esa música Las sonrisas estrellando la noche Al ritmo de las voces de mujeres Lesbianas, latinas amor de mujeres Armo de mujeres creando intima Hace  tanto tiempo que no habíamos hablado compartimento aprendiendo una de la otra, tan sensual tu mirada lassoing me en tus revolturas de ideas así son las rebeldes te agarran del cerebro como si fuera chongo Stretching your scalp skin Birth Goddess, mouth open Así de abierto se siente el hueco de mi corazón. Knock

I used to think that I wasn’t pretty. I felt that my hair was just too short, my nails jagged in urgent need of a manicure, and my lips and cheeks were not the right hue.   But this was before I understood and accepted what it means for me to be butch. Let me tell you. This butch is a chillona Y QUE! who often wipes away tears on the very same sleeve on which she’s pinned her heart. Being butch means that I’ll always get, “Excuse me, this is the ladies room,” when my bladder and temper are about to burst. It means slipping into a fresh pair of boxer briefs- the kind that hug my butt giving it the roundness of a small mango.   Or into a pair of chones- not the sexy lacy kind but the cottony, sensible ones.   And other times I don’t wear any underwear at all. My lips rub against the seat of my jeans and I feel the doughy softness of my inner thighs with every step I take.   It means “give me a 3 on the sides, longer on top, square the ba

My legs so hairy. Long and wiry my hair. Before I used Nair, used a blade to my fuzz, I fought for my hair. This chica in my middle school- she had hair long as a mane. Yoli se llamaba, she didn’t like me and she liked my hairiness even less. Don’t know what or how my hairy mess messed with her. Fuzzy upper lip, already mentioned her mane and arms just as furry as mine but she was lighter so hers looked thick like espinas de nopal. Hair a thorn on her side and she took it out on my on me on mine- hair. So fine and light, airy almost never bothered me until she started airing my business drawing attention to my… getting attention from my… feeling better at my- expensive, she cost me a lot of time and frustration. Nervousness during P.E. cause I knew she’d see me in my green with gold trimmed school shorts and launch her words that crawled up my spine like an army of ants me trying to resist not to itch.

Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, is the masochists way to know that the burning the blood busted cells and pus drying hard, crunchy on skin is taking it as Jesus did. Taking this sinful world as it is. Not as I would have it never as I would have it but about how you give it make me take it. Blindly trusting that You will  make all things right, the space, my head my throbbing wounds  markers  of my   surrender to Your will,  knees a popping mess  on the concrete.  Concrete proof of doing anything just so that I may be reasonably happy in this life. But it's the next one that matters, next time, next opportunity next night, next breath as long I have the next opportunity to be supremely happy with You forever in the NEXT. Amen.

It is fatal to be a man or a woman- pure and simple. One most be a womanly man or a manly woman. Be honest! Can’t lead the soul, one must follow its journey. Allow it to be unhinged, squeaky like a barn door after usage and abuse. The soul, unhinge it from the demands of the flesh vessels. Leave the material world don’t be materialistic but celestial, moon-like One face, same face varied in luminance and darkness as celestial beings coincide. Labyrinth, twist and turn from the static macho and powder puff cardboard molds. Fear spreads like ivy in your chest attempting to smother growth. And if on the eve of the journey fate wills that you should run an iron nail into your foot Spurn the PAIN! Limp along, don’t crawl away, seek out nurturance from others; fire eaters, fire walkers, the knife swallowers who have crossed the same terrain.