0.3ML TESTOSTERONE CYP INJECTION
The skin on my right thigh; an incision
a lip, just, subcutaneously.
The sharps that float & wash out of vision.
When medically & ritually,
somehow, then, necessary: stick to bone.
The ocean; a swallowing mother come
to salt the deer, to swish syringes. groan
as her great body waves through; a surf tongue.
I am a good listener: 3M—L
& 18 Gauge. The blood starfish tide pool.
we collect shells. coarse window air & swell.
her white curtains kiss urchin, slide in spool.
Please, I want to be called medical waste
& have you hold on to my every trace.
Robin Gow's poetry has recently been published in POETRY, Furrow, carte blanche, FIVE:2:ONE, and Corbel Stone Press. He is a graduate student at Adelphi University pursing an MFA in Creative Writing. He runs two poetry blogs and interns for Porkbelly Press. He is an out and proud bisexual transgender man passionate about LGBT issues. He loves poetry that lilts in and out of reality, and his queerness is also the central axis of his work. He's inspired by trans and gender non-conforming poets like Eileen Myles and Alok Vaid-Menon.