These REFUSAL poems were originally accepted by POETRY magazine but were withdrawn by the author in protest.

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Eulogy: Tron Blue

Tron Blue was loved, or at least it said so
on the Gofundme. He was loved enough
to be born & never go without
heartache. He was loved,
but not in the ways proven to keep
Black queers breathing. I can’t begin

to tell you how much life I’ve lived in this one
body, but it’s half of what Tron did &
still, it’s been enough to weary me.
I can’t begin without him,

or at least I don’t know how to yet.
But I do believe in miracles.

Their way of making everything feel sicker
than it once was. Like shame
slipping through the cinder block-shaped earth
dumping over him after we mourn a dead body
in church. How do I get over this? The boy

who should have been a man? I don’t think
about flowers anymore but if I did,
they would be petals of all the awkward laughs
and yelling that happens in Black churches.

Call that pain. All Black & beside itself with ache
at a funeral we call a celebration for sanity’s sake.
I kept it together enough to show up &

honestly speaking, I miss church. Mostly for the performance.
You’ve got to shout for something.

I believed in Tron like I believed in Mac Miller
when he said “love is life’s currency.” Did Tron not have
any love left? Could I have given him — through blood
transfusion or a good fuck —  all mine instead?

Eulogies read too much like stories. You know,
the ones mamas tell us not to tell.
The ones that are more for the living than anything else.

Tron Blue was loved, or
a version of him was by all of us.
We tell that truth to ourselves;
we throw our heads back in praise at the life-
like retelling of him. Amen.

You would’ve hated your funeral

First of all, it was at a church. Yes, the same typa place
that condemned us till we were old enough to not return.

There were mosaics & tacky pews; when the preacher
got to the subject of queerness, he did that thing

Baptist preachers do when they feel like
they said something good— the yelling

& stomping, chile; it was a mess.
Sionna said I stay ready so I don’t have to get ready,

your signature choice of phrase & I was a mess
of sounds and tears.  Our language,

of kin who sashayed away from church walls,
our language is that of people terrified of losing

everything. Even ourselves. I know you needed
to free yourself. Still there we were, all patron saints

of ache, waiting for our turn to share stories about you
amongst a scary building again. Standing at an off-white

pulpit in our Sunday best for one Saturday
sorrow again. Laughter isn’t just laughter

when you’ve cried 10 times more; god is you,
coming to occupy my mind a touch longer

as the mosaics reflect on your casket. Though it wasn’t
our kind of place, it was an extension of keeping you here.

You loved me in healthier ways than my kin–
since they all bogged down by what their god thinks–

could. So I went to a building in a robe &
butched it up in a suit. It was my effort
of letting love stand up inside me.

About Kam

Long bio (don’t read this out loud, please): Kam craves missing the invite but getting it anyway. Like hey can you make it sent at 9pm, read at 10am cause they were dreaming. By dreaming, Kam means finishing the manuscripts gnawing at their chest, the manuscripts ready to be birthed since they came out to their parents (twice). There is so much lost when Kam runs. Would you still subscribe if they monetized the newsletter? Can you buy Kam’s book & merch, pretty please? They could un-monetize their heart & be so much happier, but they tried every career they could think of & they’re here. Kam is manifesting reparations & Black joy. Kam is manifesting lots of things that won’t happen at this rate. They live in a state that makes it hard to live. Call it Texas, though it feels like capitalism & other things hustled from Mexico. What other options are there? Kam wants to hug Tron Blue & tell him he left when things got bad.

& in a way that’s good, just like their transition. Kam is anti-gender propaganda personified. They think too much when they wake up; truly, If Kam could be a colorful fairy, they’d do that. Here they are, able to talk about Tron without dying a little more inside. Aren’t you happy for Kam? Aren’t you happy now?

Texas is rad cause Kam knows that life could be better in other states but they stay anyway. Family, friends, & stability are here & two out of three of those things can’t see (or earn) their way out this place. Texas has so much potential they say, to make themselves feel better. Kam thinks that, in the white liberal way, Texas has already seen its potential, yet there’s a sliver of light that shows them better than this. Austin is rad because all the well-meaning whites love cognitive dissonance. They sj they way out of accountability. Kam wants to say that times are behind here but timelines warp here really. They think they did the work, but they heart still bad. & Austin is bad — just dipped in Democrat Blue. They are Kam & they love Tron Blue.

Short bio: Kam craves dreaming. They could un-monetize their heart & be so much happier, but they’re here. Kam is manifesting anti-gender propaganda & Texas is rad because Kam’s there. Kam wants to say they love Tron Blue.