One day about 20 years ago I was sitting around UMD with some friends and one friend had brought snacks – little bar cookies.  They were very tasty and when I asked her what they were called, she said “Sesame Dream Bars.”  That cracked me up because it sounded so much like a Barbie accessory but not really Barbie, maybe some alternative-minded, vegetarian relative about whom we’d never heard.  I thought maybe her name would be Aurora.  “Barbie’s Little Sister” was the first Barbie poem I wrote.  I think I wrote the rest over the next year or two.  I haven’t written a Barbie poem in about 15 years, I can’t remember exactly . 

 So, so Ellie poems that should be better known than they are:

Barbie's Little Sister

Barbie's little sister,

Aurora

got sent away to reform school

when she was thirteen.

Mattel brought her back complete

with wheat germ, a VW love bus

and a recipe for sesame dream bars.

But she never caught on.

Didn't go for the vanity

table or the bubble head.

Thought Barbie was repressed

and Ken was a nerd

so she hit the road

with his cousin.

They went to demonstrations

wore love beads

and got matching tattoos.

Finally, Mattel stopped marketing her.

Didn't think she's make

a good role model.

Winona

Winona is Barbie's walleye warrior friend,

comes complete with a boat

and spearfishing equipment.

Mattel was proud of their attention

to ethnic diversity and affirmative action,

pretty pleased until they realized

she had planned to fish on ceded territory,

had a copy of an old treaty

that said she could.

Free-thinking and liberal

until they noticed Barbie organizing

a witness program and offering convertibles

to anyone with a transportation problem 

for free.

Mattel tried to get Winona 

to abrogate by offering

bendable elbows and a boyfriend

but she said 'no, thank you'

and Barbie watched

as they tried to pull Winona off the shelves.

Barbie Disappeared One Day

There was a lot of speculation

kidnap, foul-play

maybe a Jimmy Hoffa kind of thing.

The National Enquirer once linked them

in the expose

"Where dolls and mobsters meet."

Actually, she just got sick 

of the fame thing

and joined her real-life lover

Elvis

who had been hiding out in Michigan

but had to move

once the tabloids found him.

Moved to Chicago

which is where Barbie found him

working as a roadie

for some of the local bands

and shooting everything

he could melt down.

Eventually the  needle found its way

to Barbie and the little known vein

that ran up her plastic arm.

And that's how they lived and loved

on the lower east side,

until they got busted

in a small-time liquor store hold-up.

Elvis escaped.

Barbie got sent downtown

where she confounded the authorities

by having no fingerprints,

aggravated the telephone operator 

by insisting

that Midge and Skipper

didn't have any last names.

Barbie Grows Armpit Hair

It was first noted

in the 7th aisle

of the Cash Is Ours  store

by Madelaine who was playing

with the demo model

and asked her mother

why Barbie had a  moustache

under her arms.

The ensuing shriek

brought all three managers-on-duty

and an off-duty medic

It all started with Belinda

who worked the night shift

in the Barbie and Friends

quality control section

of the factory.

She had worked there for years

checking countless heads

for misstamped eyes, crooked lips,

bad hair.

It was also her job

to administer a short verbal quiz

to make sure the Barbie

had right political beliefs

and Mattel family  values.

All the subversives and the socialists

were sent back.

Until one day

Belinda had been passed over

for yet another promotion

and the forman asked her

to shorten her breaks

and smile more often.

In her irritated, distrated state

she let one of the feminist Barbies

keep talking and suddenly something

clicked.

Naturally it was only a matter of time

before she let through Body Hair Barbie

and Menstrual Midge,

complete with a tiny pad,

tampon, sea sponge, and ibuprofen accessories.

There was Softball Skipper

Bi-Barbie and Drag Queen Ken.

Some little boys

and some little girls

found their horizons broadened

their lives irrevocably changed

before Belinda got fired. 

It is really, REALLY easy to dismiss these pieces as shitty, crazy art things.  However, as the women who introduced us noted, these vids came from a place where women were really trying to make a name for themselves as women (yes, women BORN women) in a patriarchal world.  Yes, uh, it was largely white middle class women doing the shaking.  But go with me here. 

"You would never understand, you young queers don't respect your elders," a sixty-year-old Lesbian told me.  This was after I did a performance piece and made a dig at Judy Grahn (not Judy Grahn herself, who led an incredible life, but the LESBIAN RULES which require Another Mother Tongue to be read by every young Lesbian).  She admitted she was overly sensitive to Grahn, "a saint for the Lesbian movement," and while the younger queers appreciated the jokes and ways I made fun of older lesbians and institutions like Michigan Wymyn's Music Festival, she was miffed.   "Someone exposed their PENIS in the SHOWER!" she said. (this is not really accurate, but go with me).  "Do YOU have any idea what it means to imagine a world free from men touching you, shoving you, to have wymyn's space to breathe?"  She lived on lesbian communes and horse farms in the 70's, yes, as a lesbian separatist, she said, "we were so radical, so eager, but so alone." 

And YOU, she said, YOU grew up post-Stonewall!  Where Gloria Steinem was readily available!  Where you didn't have to fight...just to be equal.  These young women, they think they can stop being gay!  Women don't want to identify as Lesbian anymore.  Suppression!

(yes, there are so many isziues here, as well as with her ideas about bisexual women, trans people, and people of color)

And yes, I know these video art pieces are not LESBIAN SEPARATIST PIECES.  And I truly believe in evolving theoretical discourse.

However, I think there are important moments when we can look back at what our elders can teach us and use it to create art for our own evolving needs. And I think dismissing everything that came before our own evolved theory as 'old-fashioned' without taking into account WHY it's 'old-fashioned.' So when I saw these videos, I saw people in my larger circle, just flapping their wymyn wings and starting to fly.  It was a very welcoming experience. 

he is the first Eastern Orthodox saint to also be canonized by Rome.

St. Josaphat was someone who preached against the split between Orthodox and Catholic Christianity.  

Oh, and the Josaphat/Jehoshaphat in scripture, was, it seems to me, someone who pursued alliance and religious reform.  So even if the point was not a specific religious one, cuz duh, Josaphat is not just a Christian character, religious study can serve as a powerful tool for bringing home a point about an issue that doesn't have a religious monopoly, but is centered in justice.  But someone who knows more about this feel free to chime in, as it's 2AM. 

let's dance

Hi, this is Barbie Karaoke Machine.   Let's dance!  I've had my heydey years earlier when my limbs worked.  now i can pop out a few beats.  my speech is a bit broken, but i can still say a few things.  I want you to sing with me!  My arms broke and my stomach is hungry.  Let's dance!  When you press the Echo button, you can do interesting things with your voice.  But I don't have that any more.  Are we movin' now?  Get up and dance.  I don't talk to correct misunderstandings.  I simply cannot talk well.  Hi-Med-Lo-please turn my volume to Hi.  My mouth is pink with flowers.  My mouth is broken.  Press the song button to hear a song.  You can hook it up to a tape player.  I am the dream of many pretty boys and girls, but am broken now.  Let's get groovy!  It is disheartening, because as a Barbie I was taught I could do anything.

I love the internet because I can interact with people without the confines of physicality. I hate the internet because I can interact with people without the confines of physicality. Livejournal, in high school? Insta-gratification for angst. Online gay youth groups in middle school because I could find no gay people my age? Relief. And then, wow, when the internet started creeping me out, lo and behold, I found gay people my age in my own town. Online groups about depression, eating disorders, human shield FYIs. I used to get over 200 -mail messages from yahoo groups. Forgive me, i was 15 and thought no one understood me, but you depression-si-suicide@yahoogroups.com, you connected me with all sorts of people who knew the "real me." And you "lesbian-and-bisexual-women@yahoogroups.com," connected me with others who share my identity. Oh, and we can't forget "gayUKyouthboyz@yahoogroups.com," for connecting me with gay men all over the United Kingdom.

Then, I decided that I wanted to quit blogging and writing e-mails to yahoo!groups and actually interact with my community. So I unsubscribed. And for a period of time, the best way to reach me was through the mail. I am obsessive about e-mails and letters, for many it is easier to be obsessive with letters. And lord knows how many times I've regretted hitting the 'send' button, occasionally things that have wacked up my life in -- now I can say good ways. E-mail implies exhaustion and almost mandates response. She loved my letters, not my e-mails. But then, occasionally, I'll meet a beautiful person and the way we can keep in touch is through e-mail. I'm not talking gayYouthUK, but actual friendship. Still, it seems both like I have an amazing network of people who have my back and a false sense of security.

I still prefer letters. But, guiltily, looking for an interfaith group of women who cover their heads for religious reasons, I turned to yahoo! And, baby, this is why I love you. Because you bring some women of different faiths who wear niqab, hajab, bandanas, headscarves, veils, etc. together, and you have the beginnings of alternative discourse, I think. So I continue to have a complete relationship.

 that parasol is for my best concerns, when I am trying to impress.  see, they called me to sit for a portrait, so I bring my parasol.  There's not much wind here, so i can walk up and down the streets without it getting blown inside out.  see, that's not technology, that's not a feminine body, my big head, that's for my best concerns.  the shoes i always wear, but especially when sitting for a portrait, they pop.

Certainly, analyzing popular cinema requires just as much care to the context and the participants in the debate as hip-hop? And is it all bad to make people feel good, to have no loose ends? I would argue that, dammit, it is o.k. to escape into something that may not happen in real life. Not because it makes you not act on the world, but because (perhaps?) you already do enough acting on the world in your life and need a break?

This is not a response to Brecht, because I think in the long run, Brecht and I would probably agree on a lot of things. But deciding what art "can" or "cannot" do, or what "should" or "shouldn't" be allowed, needs to include the voice of the artist. And after you have done a lot of research into the industry and the artists. And I think it is important to be critical of popular culture. But Pretty Little Liars, Harry Potter, or Nancy Drew carry lots of depth. And please do not forget romance. It is important to give flowers and cards to those we love.

but this dread was something different. it was a fear of intrusion into _____ rather than of expansion into the World's gaze. ___ felt ___ leg as a soft, shrinking and vulnerable thing. ___ longed to cry out to _____ and warn ______ to examine ______ leg in a particular way, but specific firm, yet calm, movements. But ____ tongue was dried out and glued to the floor of ____ mouth.

love always tends to union, and the greater the love the closer is the alliance to which it inspires (2)

Oh, God,

as there are souls singularly favored and caressed by you, you raise some to be as dear mistress or seraphic level

and

could concieve of nothing more embarrassing than an involuntary ______ -- especially if a _____ such as ______ was touching _____.

though the love ____ bore to you made _____ sigh after the enjoyment of a similar grace

___- had to cant ______ up on to the curve of ___ _______ coincidentally adopting the same posture as ___ had when ___ first became aware of the ____.

___ mind was agitated with many different sensations and ____ felt two different sorts of agitations, similar to the two contrary pulsations which physicians regognize in our hearts.

this was different to the fear that ____ usually felt when ___ was touched by ____ in non-intimate situations, or had to address in

your love made _____ words like burning coals.

love is always communicative, it allows of no secrets between those whose affections it unites; and it is a sort of injustice to give the heart to anyone without revealing all that it contains of any importance....And you loved ____ so tenderly, and even publicly took ___ for ___ spouse, we cannot wonder that ___ honored ___ with the gift of prophecy.

__ waited. and waited. all ___ could hear was ____ breathing, which seemed to have become heavy, laboured and slightly intermittent. ____ lay still, holding himself in readiness for the ____ pronouncement, and, of course, willing himself not to get an ____. he stared fixedly at the way the plaster had been teased up into little fronds, like miniature stalactites.

___ was ravished in ecstasy. you entered again into ___ mind with so brilliant a light and enkindled so great a love.

one human being can accomplish only what one human being can accomplish. That is certain. That limitation gives many human beings who accomplish nothing satisfaction. One human being sooner or later finds that ___ must join with others if ___ is to get done what ____ had hoped to do alone. (3)

(1) bold and un-italicized text courtesy of Cock and Bull, by Cock and Bull (Sheridan, Wyoming: Elk Mountain Press, 1926) pages indefinite.

(2) italicized text from The Life of St. Rose of Lima, Jean-Baptiste Feuillet, Ed. F.W. Faber, (Philadelphia: Peter F Cunningham and Son, CATHOLIC BOOKSELLERS, 1855) page numbers infinite, MLA don't send my ass to Hell please, at least give me Works Cited Purgatory (1st Level).

(3) underlined text comes from some sheet Julia tore off ferociously involving Marxism and France.

Artist? statement: I am trying to create accessible hagiography. Am trying to show the similarities of 'erotic ticklings' in relation to God and in relation to people. also, taking out the references to body parts, gender or even deity in general make the similarities even more striking and may help in two arenas: making the profane more sacred, and making the sacred more profane. Am moving against modern critiques of religion and sexuality which imply an erect penis as a sexualized penis, or as a saint experiencing what could be considered orgasm in sexual terms from our era -- which, actually, is just like labeling Sappho a lesbian ('cept some who are anti-label still talk about Jesus' erect penis as if it's the most important thing, so where is the give?). So when we look at bodies, we must detach ourselves from our current sexualized culture, in which every body part is used for an explicit sexual purpose. It could also help in a third arena: making yr own love story or human experience, which, in the end, is quite Godly indeed.

Whether I succeeded in this one piece, nyyyah.

so what i wrote, i guess.

nothing on stage in the Garden of Eden.  I have been miraculously transported back in space.

First person comes on stage, naked, bringing clothes. "I believe it is fun to play with appearances, you're performing your gender with every moment you breathe.  so have fun, change your pronoun a bit, don't you know the story of Samael and Lilith, of Adam and Eve? So become blissfully naked and free, play with the goth chicks dipped in honey, screw around and have fun, there's only you and you alone!" plays in the background, a mantra from a genderqueer support group, MAKE ZE AND HIR THE ONLY PRONOUNS NOW!  person looks very confused.  "So why the fuck would I have to take a label then regarding my gender?" person responds.

"You want to be like God?  You think that's the best way of being with God? MORAL SIN.  YOU'RE KICKED OUT OF PARADISE.  OH, AND YOU'RE NAKED."

(monotonic, voice of Metatron)

CAIN'S SURFACE-LEVEL IDENTITY

fade

Alarm clock

Music of Marty Robbins, "El Paso"

put on binding devices

penis

undergarments

undershirt

overshirt

another shirt

pants

no shoes

another person comes on

ABEL'S SURFACE-LEVEL IDENTITY

Alarm clock

Music of King Missile, "Detachable Penis"

quickly! bra, underwear, jeans, FEMINISM IS FOR THE WHALES!  SAVE THE WHALES! t-shirt

the two bring their bodies to God. Abel's body is accepted while Cain's is not.

"Come into the genderqueer group with me, Abel!"

(Cain kills Abel)

God wonders where the hell Abel is.  Am I my brother's keeper? Cain says.  The voice of Abel's blood screams to Cain from the ground.  And a raven comes, picking at the ground to show him how to cover the corpse of his brother.  And Cain cries, woe to me, am I unable, with all of the dirt in the world, to cover the corpse?  And he is remorseful.  And maybe God might forgive Cain, but Metatron doesn't.

"I banish you, Cain, to the moon!  For you will never fit in and you will never care about anything else but making your body fit in!  Go with your twigs to the moon!"

Cain leaves, taking a rosary with him.

Raven and Abel stay.

and in the background, you hear, "some folks say, i should get it permanently attached, but, y'know, i like having a detachable penis."

"helloooo, Judith Butler, I know you are talking about me, but I have no idea what you're saying!" --Lynnee Breedlove, One Freak Show, paraphrased

"I am extremely greatful to Foucault's notion of 'discourse.' Without it, I could not have done this work." --Edward Said, Orientalism, paraphrased

the form of "the form"

obligatory: i am speaking for myself. i am not speaking for anyone else. i have seen first hand many, many, many people struggle with gen-durr identity and how people reacted to their so-called abnormalities. i have seen friends kill themselves, loved ones still struggle after they have had surgery, loved ones struggle over how to cope with the 'illness' of their new sister -- many who struggled and lived in times that were not as fluid as this time, in times where breaking binary codes was really, truly, much more abnormal.  it's still hard for many. i think that is why i take such a flippant attitude myself to this 'intervention.' intervention, for many people, is not very fun. it's a privilege for intervention to be fun. i want to preserve my own sanity and respect the serious trials that many people have (in this day and age, too).

however, edward said spoke for other people with amazing results. comments directly addressed to the male and female box on the form. experimental in that gen-durr is inherently experimental on one scale and performative on another, which are only two of six or so scales of gen-durr. i almost didn't put this disclaimer in, but i figured one of you inquisitive, beautiful people would wonder about it.

the form of "the form"

"i" is a box. there are boxes. they define who we are. those in power give us labels. those close to us, whether or not they have power over us, give us labels. we give labels to other people. we give labels to ourselves. "liberal," "conservative," "radical," and "moderate" are labels. labels do not give credit to our rich selves. but see how much we use them and we need them. not always in a bad way either. see how much i use them. militant "i am just me" is a label. "child of the world" is a label.

the form of "the form": questions and statements from "them"

do you have breasts and a penis?

you don't look like an it.

are you a feminist?

when did you become a feminist?

how did you know?

are you particularly androgynous?

how DO you know?

you don't have the authority to speak about men.

or women.

or wymyn.
or transmen.

or the trans community.

or gen-durrfucking

or gen-durr neutral pronouns

or sexism

or masculinity

or really, anyone.

why don't you just gen-durrfuck all the time?

why don't you acknowledge the intense oppression your sisters have experienced?

why are you so angry with militant queer activism?

how can you have sex?

how can you even say that about sex? you're queer, you're third wave, not second wave, you should drown in sex, right?

how can you desire religious life with your 'identity struggles'?

are you still my sister?

why don't you ever really talk about this and be out and proud?

why do you love wymyn-identified-wymyn? you're young, remember?

you dislike the ideas of waves?

why are you turning your back on lesbianism, your community?

so, you, um, obviously feel a draw toward masculine energy, but still wear skirts?

why aren't you more respectful to folks that know the binary is oppressive and choose to name their own gen-durr and force you all to recognize it?

why aren't you more respectful to your lesbian elders?

can i see your dick? is it as big as mine? how many inches is it? how much did it cost?

you should switch your pronouns to "ze" and "hir"

why is this just not a big deal to you?

how can you believe in a god who is obviously against everything you stand for?

wow. you have breasts. that's new.

the form of "the form"

cuz it's goddamn hot and i am not tiny, even with the best devices it's goddamn hot in there and i am not tiny.

it's not as simple as 'just be myself, love me for who i am, just MEEEEEEEEEEE,' because we don't live in fucking camp trans. i am so glad i don't. there is a binary and no matter how many times you fuck that thing, it'll still be there.

so i work on something easier to manage. we all exist in this world on multiple levels -- i ain't going to give up the parts of me that has a history of pain (my whiteness, for example), just to make me feel more like singing songs around a campfire.

the form of "the form"

she signed her book, "to my fellow sister poet, with delight" and 'sister poet,' is an inherent part of me. so call me labels and listen when or if i correct you, but don't stop calling me them. because then, if we all became happy fuzzy human beings, we would be able to pretend that shit wasn't fucked up. but it really is. so that is why i "get up, get over it, and go" (the advice from someone who knows the gen-durr game at a very close proximity) in regard to my trans identity. except when i have to, see, explain, to make a big deal outta things. like right now.