Murphy Reed
four rules for the revolution
one. Lead poisoning from industrial maquillage
is a masculine form of submission
the difference between conformism and revolution is simple;
skinny boys can wear skirts
and I can be a man who covers his drink at parties
two. boys in crop tops must show ribs,
boys who look like girls must wear pants.
there’s a point where it becomes redundant,
maybe with a sharper profile I could dye my hair uglier colors
three. I know exactly how I want to die:
at just the age where it’s still tragic
bloody so I can’t have an open casket
four I look like something that does not exist.
when I wash my hands I run water down my forearms like it will make them longer
and on some days I rip my lungs from my chest in hopes that they grow back baritone
I am the kind of man who cannot walk home alone at night
and shoves himself against rocks to make him flat and angular
I cannot cleave myself into pieces because
it only makes me prettier
Murphy Reed is a San Francisco- raised poet and musician. As both an artist and a writer, he spends the majority of his time prowling about for inspiration.