unfolding like ribbons of molasses across
the dash of my ford ranger.
k.d., thank you from one prairie dyke
to another, for reclining so handsomely
in the barber’s chair as cindy crawford
runs the razor up your chin on the cover
of vanity fair in 1993, posed forever
sensually. you are the definition
of natural, from Old French naturel,
“of nature, conforming to nature;
by birth.”¹ k.d., have you heard of ewes
mounting each other in heat? think
suede on suede, the natural order
of things. every winter when i dream
of spring, ² i hear your melliferous voice
sprawling over bluegrass, the pasture
ripe with you, a speaker nestled
against my chest. k.d., one day i’ll ask
my girl to become my wife and you’ll
have played no small part, my swagger
yours, my suit pinstripe. o, “politically
radical vegetarian lesbian defender
of wildlife,” ³ it’s from you i’ve learned
how to be a good butch, thank you
for coming out in 1992 and saying later
you didn’t feel like you had to,
it being evident – since always – who
you love and just how well.
¹https://www.etymonline.com/word/natural#etymonline_v_44540
²https://kdlang.com/releases/watershed/
SLOANE SCOTT (they/them) is a nonbinary lesbian poet from Missouri. Their work has been published in The Maine Review, Up the Staircase Quarterly, and elsewhere. They are the founding editor of like a field, a seasonal journal of art and text.
