One Poem by Trey Freund


On Defense of the Drag Queen

You are a man in a wig, and this is the closest that we, as a species, will get to the act of creation.

Devotion of your time to your body, your hands to your body, to creating your body, molding yourself from the rubble of man / hood and into the light.

You, with your face half drawn on, saying this could be your body, that the body you are in is not yours, no, not yet, because you have already been named,

so chant under your breath into a dressing room, call bloody mary, make this ritual. Summon a spectacle,

become your own genesis. You have already been called beast,

so you wear it. You are sheep / in wolf’s clothing

And now, here is your body moving, because it’s yours for now. You, creator of your shape, your face, your being. You have declared ownership, new management. You remember: they can take parts off, pull your hair, pull your face, pull your sleeping fingernails from their beds, screaming. They can pull it all off, leave you there naked and shivering. They can take it all, but they can’t take you / your name.    

Body moving, you are suddenly six inches off the ground with everyone below you, their hands stretched forward to touch: your shining body in the disco light.                                                                                                                                                      


Trey Freund (he/they) is a graduate student in English Literature at Wichita State University, as well as drag artist in the Wichita area.

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