Poetry by Emma Goldman-Sherman

    Kevin Toews CC




Throat
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Swallows are birds to leave the past behind, to leave the house when anything happens like the front lifts off as giants rearrange the furniture and put words in the mouths of all the plastic people inside. No one moves their lips. Nothing important gets said only dust and decor and what we're going to wear. I've been to other houses where there are feelings. Wanting to say, not saying. Swallows screech as if the house is on fire only the house does not burn or collapse or even tremble, split-level ranch on half an acre, nothing happens to the house. But choking is a thing. Let's celebrate arrivals: here's the mail, the news, the Sunday comics, the circular. People on the television upset your father. Don't talk about it. Don't say a word about the what we're never talking about. Eat your meatloaf, eat your peas, eat your mashed potatoes, eat. Or the swallows will choke you, fly away with wings full of dust. No one will nest here (no one will love you) no one will let you sit at the table or play underneath when the adult conversation bores you or bores into your brain. They are eating each other's organs again instead of food. He says did you cook this yourself, and she says did you fuck me last night or was that some other guy, it felt so good? 

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My Pronouns


my parents / open about my body-parts / wanting me / to be open too / so open they show me exactly how they work / do things to prove / I am who-what-how they say / because of what 
my body-parts are-were-did-do / or were done to--

Hard to manage what arises / when my heart-body-mind says / you're not a girl / not a she / you're just not--

Hard to figure how to be / sending love to myself / keeps getting harder / fearing myself / if I can be anything / who can I be? 

Hard early mornings when / still so present tense / my mother asleep when my lonely / father  pulls off the covers / tucked tight each night / this is how you are / this is how you are--

Not that. I am / strong like a boy / loud like a boy / say No, I'm a boy I'm-a-boy-I'maboy! 

Harder he says, you / wanna see what it's like to be a boy? / Is this how you are? / Is-this-how-you-wanna-be? 

My name is Emma / my pronouns are she-they / or they-she or she / or they or me--

I love you whoever you are / I love you for trying to exist / in a world that doesn't want you / I love you for you being you / even when you have to hide / I love you for existing / in any shape or form / pause / breathe / decide

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Emma Goldman-Sherman mostly writes plays, produced on 4 continents, including the podcast of Abraham's Daughters at TheParsnipShip.com, work at PlayingOnAir.org and elsewhere. Their poems are published or forthcoming from IHRAF, NonBinary Review, Oberon, American Athenaeum, Third Estate, Anodyne, long con, The Bangalore Review, Queerlings, Writers Resist, and others. They teach for the Dramatists Guild Institute and support writers and artists at BraveSpace.online and write about wholeness and creativity on Substack.