All Fucking Gas  No Fucking Brakes

Another poet taught me that the movie Finding Nemo is historically inaccurate

In the real world, if Nemo’s mom had died then Nemo's dad would have become Nemo’s mom

And I don't mean in some reductivist, stereotypical way where he puts on an apron and packs school lunches like some Michael Keaton Mr. Mom type bullshit

I mean he would have physically, biologically transitioned into Nemo's mom because that's what the brood would need

Cause that’s how the clownfish do

In fact, that’s how all nature does, no matter the shape or size, perceived strength or complexity

All living creatures transition to what we need to be in order to survive, live, and thrive

Because if we didn’t then there would be no living creatures

Or to put that in other words: If you force people to live lives they cannot live

If you force people to live with bodies they cannot live with

If you force a fetus to grow inside someone's body

Then you are not forcing people to live; You are forcing them to die and I desperately need you to look at the blood on your hands

Because I am beyond infuriated watching so many beautiful creatures I care about kill themselves for the cynical comfort of pearl-clutching hypocritical Karens and Kevins what couldn’t give a crap about us anyway

Hi, My name is David 0mega, I am a poet, and I identify as an ally

And I am calling out every conservative who thinks they’re so clever for claiming they're pronouns are attack helicopter

Well put me in your sights, unload everything you've got on me, and color me unimpressed because I’m a tank

Scratch that, I’m an Armored Personnel Carrier

I’m the opposite of a ladder-puller because I’m pulling all the troops I can with me

All the freaks and geeks, all the queers and weirdos, the blessed baddies, the downtrodden, disaffected, disenfranchise, and discarded refuse

Anyone who wants to roll with this Flying V, anyone who wants to ride in the charge of the Rainbow Brigade

You are seen, heard, welcomed, and loved

If you chose to stay in the rear view, know that it doesn’t mean you’re eating our dust, it means we're doing our best to soak up the hits for you

But standing out of the way is just not where I need to be anymore

I need to be the tip of the fucking spear, all fucking gas, no fucking brakes, avant of the fucking garde

I need to cruise over every landmine and explode them into pretty pink dollies with purple ribbons in their hair

I need to binge on bullets and bombs so I can belch out big, beautiful rainbows

I need to gobble up every missile and hate-filled missive to convert them into hugs

Yes, I said hugs, weapons-grade, military-style, orderly and efficient tactical hugs

Laser-guided and locked on the most heavily defended hearts

Because Karens and Kevins, we all know that as much as you deserve it, you don’t need a punch in the face

You need a hug and you need to enjoy it

You need to cry and you need to feel it

You need to be vulnerable to prove to yourself that you can survive, live, and thrive through it

You need to take all the hatred and guilt that you feel and unload it

I know I can take it from because I refuse to carry it anymore

I carried that shit for years and when I finally let it go I transition to a better version of myself

A version that’s still armored and protected but no long close-minded or hard-hearted

A version that's still fueled by anger but I get better mileage because I know exactly what it is and exactly what it's not

It is not hatred; It is the frustration of seeing an unjust world unfold that I cannot fix on my own

It is not guilt; It is the fear of what will happen to everyone I love less demographically privileged than I am

It is the loneliness brought on by the truly insane notion that we could never understand each other

Do you Karens and Kevins actually wanna know the best way to stop that loneliness?

It's as easy as the Texas Two Step; Let us weirdos in; Give us a hug