Ghost as Naked Man
“Gender is a kind of imitation of which there is no original.”—Judith Butler
Take away his beard, his hairy flanks.
Lick your thumb and smear off
his Adam’s apple. Lift away his penis
like a live bomb, and bury it
under a mountain. Hide the testicles
behind a broad leaf.
But look, he still goes around town
pointing at things he wants
and moaning, rattling his imaginary
chains. Every time he sees his reflection
in a shop window, he cuts a thumb
and with the blood paints over gaps
in his shimmering reflection.
Then he takes a brick and breaks
the glass. There, he says,
look what I made.