#20: F#ck Jackson Wang

 Maleness is disgusting this way:

it forces you to desire it (but what for?);

not having it tricks you into believing

you are not human enough to be good

and not good enough to be human (but why?).

Maleness in the hands of society is

but a fear and threat thrown to the throat

of a crying hungry child; a spear aimed

at the innocent. Going in circles,

moving left and right with no armor,

you're wondering why you're amiss;

why being a miss's leaving you

wandering aimlessly. Why, why,

and why, just why is it making you

jealous of you don't know

what or who but it's there;

so jealous, you tryna be somebody else.

The next thing you know you're bed-ridden,

feverish meat out in the open,

shivering in the stealth night,

and all ripped apart, you think,

"Nobody is immune to the phallic disease."

Unfortunately, I am no exception.

I'm jealous of Jackson Wang.

I envy him too much I want to fuck him.

"I wanna fuck the ones I envy,”

so Lil Nas X said and he was right. 

Fuck Jackson Wang. Fuck him.

Fuck him for fucking me.

Fuck him for not fucking me.

Fuck him for making me want to fuck him.

Fuck and Jackson Wang are inseparable

the way "gentleman" and "Jackson Wang"

have bonded closer throughout years.

Gentleman?

"He's the standard!" so the screams say

and capital h, like any god worshiped,

he smiles teasingly at the worshippers;

only he knows the truth and

the truth is he's not the standard,

he has decreed so. He's declared:

"It's just common sense." So, tell me:

how can bare minimum be the standard?

Here, mark me! When you're male,

already assigned god at birth,

you needn't worry about

"you're not doing good enough"

("go home, do the chores, take care of your family")

and "you're trying too hard" ("stop being extra,"

"stop seeking attention," "you're just

being dramatic again, aren't you?")

like the born-female have to.

Jackson Wang, yeah, I want

to ruin him the same way my cultures

have destroyed my kingdom.

I want to ruin him as compensation

for my lost youth and dying adulthood

for my premature death, late-arriving childhood,

for forced resurrections post-murder by traditions,

for the body parts of mine I have to grow

and cut from growing. I am no tree

and even if I were, doesn't mean I have no feelings.

Science says one touch changes everything

and I'm sure Jackson Wang knows enough,

but what does he know that I don't?

What does he do that I don’t?

So when I say I envy Jackson Wang, I mean:

I want to do less, but be

(1) effortlessly loved

(2) unconditionally accepted

(3) culturally entitled;

be good enough though not doing much,

be the best for doing the least.