Babylon in the Bathroom

Strangers cannot help but stare,

as if your forehead is branded.

Mothers shield their children, lower their eyes,

double-check the restroom signs,

and fathers scoff, shake their heads –

imagine.

Dialogues are exchanged with a single glance

and, though you play deaf, you hear them

accusing you of polluting their

precious children.

Your flaws are magnified

beneath the harsh fluorescents

and you stumble awkwardly to the stall,

all eyes on you. They are always staring.

But there is power in beauty, and these

are the end of days,

when even washing your hands is an ordeal.

You let their stares penetrate you; you do not mind

for you are a spectacle made flesh.

They unzip you from your humanity,

unbutton you from your dignity.

You know that you will have the final laugh.

Standing amid the debris of nations, the rubble

of cities that shamed you to silence –

upon corpses of kings,

and bastions of bone,

you will extinguish the fires that hate has kept blazing

in one steaming stream

of piss – a baptism, a renewal –

at last doing what they could not

when they were more focused

on genitals

than genocide

#thevenuscomplex #poetry #transbathrooms #hb2 #news