The Perils of Being a Browncoat

I don't even know how many

Browncoats notice

How hard it is to be a Browncoat

Because well, c'mon

We are only Browncoats

In the cosplay sense

Aren't we?

Because The Independents,

The Outer Planets

Aren't really a thing

Difficulty #1: 

Being so passionately 

Invested in something

That is not a Thing

OK-- Most Browncoats

Know that one.

So maybe you, like so many

Fans & Fellowships,

Idealize the Thing

That is Not a Thing--

Many Browncoats'

Love of The Black

Is rooted in their familiarity 

With the Final Frontier

We are Boffins

Bouncing about in Boxes

That are

Bigger on the Inside

Yes. 

We get that.

So we turn

Musings

Into

Myth

Follow the Prime Directive

Contemplate 

Wibbly-Wobbly

Timey-Wimey

Stuff

And Aim

To Misbehave.

I wonder how many

Browncoats have noticed

That Browncoats

Were Libertarians

Or Jeffersonian

In the very least

Vying for autonomy

From the large central

Body

Nationalized Nothing

"You Can't Take 

The Sky From Me"

Difficulty #2:

Reconciling Values

Here we are in our

Browncoats

A mass of 

Independents

How many of us

Would fight against

Unification

Really?

How many of us

Would brave the 

Hardships of Liberty

For Liberty's sake?

How many of us

Would vote with our

Feet

And move away

From laws we didn't 

Like?

How many Browncoats

Would put a gun

In that holster

And fight

The glittering ships

Of the Inner Planets

With their medicine

And education

And pretty temples?

Would you even want to?

Would you be willing to let

The zealots burn their witches

So you could homestead?

Would you let the fires rage next door

In hopes the witches 

Came knocking and asked

For Amnesty?

The Alliance is a 

Beacon of Democracy

Supposedly

Maybe just tattle on the zealots

And let the Purplebellies handle it

Difficulty #3: Being on the

Losing Side

Oh, sure

We play like it is "so cool"

To be the weathered

Idealist

Against the grain

For the rest of our days

Aren't we cool?

Dressing up as

Rebel soldiers

Veterans of a pretend war

That we would never actually fight

Because we are not willing

To take risks

And be free.

How many Browncoats

Are Browncoats

How many

Of us

Would fight

To keep the sky

And nothing else

Nothing. Else.

But the Sky

Women Under 35

According to Janeane Garofalo
80% of women under the age of 35
Have no "thatch on their maidenhead"
I looked it up
The numbers vary
But wow...
Most young women
Spurn
The map of Tasmania
Now don't misunderstand me
Your pubes are your business
Clearly this is a generational thing
And I don't want to come off as
Some crazy old lady
Shaking my fist, saying
"Kids today
With their pubic hair
And their music!"
I understand
Personal preference
Increasing pleasure
Lessening discomfort
Yes, yes, yes
Whatever helps you with
Reaching "Yes!"
Do that!
But...
80%
Really?
This has nothing to do with
Airbrushed Victoria Secret ads?
HD everything?
Photoshopped  catalogues?
Porn, Playboy
Pandering?
You know
Women who wear corsets
These days really do
Love them
They are pretty
And sexy and,
When worn responsibly,
They help with your posture.
But there was a time when
The rigid binding of a corset
Was not about preference
As much as it was about
A standard.
80%
Is a standard
It's the fucking standard
Ladies
Make your maidenhead
Into what you like
Get into the zen
Of tending to your garden
Fine. Fine.
But fuck the standard
No partner worth their salt
Requires the standard
And so fucking what
If they do?
That is your cue to
Send them packing
The only standard
You should abide
Is your own

Gag

She sent a picture of herself
With a gagball in her mouth
Straps underlining her cheekbones
Color too glossy
On her lips
Full and fully posed
The pretense
Fully false
Like tricking the new maid to walk into some one's house
Or crashing a party
Or funeral
My hostility was immediate
And I would have blown it all off
Ignored the gag with the gagball
But for the insidious mode of
Invading my space.
I will take the low road
To put things right.
I have never regretted the karma on that.
I ride its wave
Like I'm surfing.
The provocative picture
Began to alter
It was not so much a gagball 
As a large pink pom pom
It filled her mouth in much the same way
She looked tired
Like she had been holding a smile too long
And now her expression was giving way
Lipstick dull
Just a little drool
And a lot of hope
That the ploy works
Not yet realizing that no,
It hasn't.
Now the gag is funny.

Armed Forces

I am not jingoistic
Or blindly patriotic
I am not comfortable
With
singing the praises
Of a nation
Engaged in
Problematic policies
And conflicts
But
When I stand at the bar
With a man who has seen things
Nobody should see
And
Done things
Nobody should do
For Country
And
Still carries on
I am mystified
The core of him
Quakes
An unsettled stone
Liquid quartz
Through granite
And he smiles
Because smiling
Saves him from tears
For now
The tears do come
Streaking through rock
But let's smile and laugh
Until then
And send the stone swinging
Make fun of ourselves
And our Darkness
Let me stand up for you
Because standing up
And fighting
Is what I do
I fight 
Let's laugh about it
Then send me into battle
I am armed
And ready
Please
Let me fight 
For you
Let me right this wrong
For you
Let me
Break a window
With my heart
And make something right
Something I believe in
I am armed
And ready
To fight
It's what I do

Just Can't

I just... I can't (sighs)
(Closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and begins again)
There are days when I just can't take it
I. Just. Can't.
Oh, sure
Technically
I can vote
And wear pants
And go to school
Technically
I can sue
For discrimination
I can call the police
For help
Technically
But a girl was sent home
From prom
Because men were looking at her
They blamed the girl
For instigating impure thoughts
While following dress code
Walking on legs she was born with
(sighs again)
What does that mean for the rest of us?
One girl in one town at one dance
Who. Just. Can't. Be.
There is at least one girl
In every town
Like her
Like me
But technically
Women have equality now
And feminists have no reason
To bitch
And rape jokes are just
Jokes
Especially when told
By silly girls acting slutty
On stage
Why would anyone take that
Silly. Girl.
Seriously?
We just can't!
Get a sense of humor
It doesn't mean anything
Look how equal we are
Getting away with rape jokes
(Lets out a short, bitter laugh)
This must be
What Equality looks like
Women joking
About rape
The way men joke
About rape
Why aren't you celebrating?
I just can't

Remembering The Battle of Hogwart's

If I could...

I'd put it in a penseive

Not another thought I'd give

To fictional cost

They're not really lost

Except to the boy who lived

------

Neville

It turned out, as we privately predicted,

That Professor Snape

Was a great hero

A man carrying a quiet burden

And the secret tenderness

He possessed was poignant

And endearing

Yes. Yes.

But damn it. 

He was so very mean

To Neville Longbottom

My Neville. 

My Neville because he was exactly

The sort of wizard-- witch, whatever--

I would be

Actually, he was the sort

I hoped I would be

Because I doubt I would 

Ever be as clever as

Hermoine

Or as creative as 

Luna

And of course I'm not the Chosen One

... maybe I could be Ron...

Ron?

No... too timid to be Ron

At best...

At best I am Neville.

Totally afraid.

Clumsy.

Insecure.

Forgetful.

Sad.

But wow...

To be that afraid

To feel like you

Can't do anything right

To cower under

Snape's piercing gaze

To swallow all of that

And lead

A fucking revolution

How bad ass is that?

That is my boy right there

That is who I want to be

To feel I suck at every turn

To fear Failure and

Death and

Pain and

Still be

Willing

To fight

Be sure

I will die

Because I am not 

Good at anything 

But to put up my fists

Anyway

Raise my wand

Anyway

Wield my sword

Anyway

To fear

I can't do it

But know

That it is too important

Not to try

Show me the tear

That reveals

Snape knew his cruelty

Would make Neville

Brave

And I will forgive him

April Thirtieth (published 5/1)

They played like the place was crowded
Three of them
Three of us
Two guys behind the counter
No cover
The crowd had been there
This was the last set
But it didn't sound like the last
How lovely
That the last songs
Of the last set
Should sound so alive
Energetic and joyful
Right up to the end