This poem, called Ladybug, is very literal.
I wrote the poem after my adult daughter and her new boyfriend came for a Sunday afternoon visit.
They had just spent the weekend in Toronto and were telling my wife and I about the great time they had.
But they made a point of not asking me what I did on Saturday. Somehow the pause for my turn did not come up.
My wife and daughter were both terrified I would say something to embarrass them in front of my future son-in-law.
In fact, I had a much more interesting time in Toronto than anyone else.
I spent Saturday afternoon go-go dancing, naked on stage at a private club, dressed as a ladybug.
I belong to a male nudist group that holds monthly dances.
Over a year ago, I began attending in order to help me get reacquainted with my body. I decided then to attend every dance in costume. I also decided to become the (un)official go-go dancer for the group.
That particular weekend was the first time, after six months of dancing and lobbying, that I had the stage lit up specifically for my performance.
I danced for hours and it was a real personal triumph.
And so the sadness of silence, of quiet shame and bi erasure overwhelmed me that weekend.
I had deferred to the group and I was silent about what I had accomplished. However, bad times make for a great poem:
Ladybug – A poem
A simple not speaking of
A simple not mentioning
A simple pause and turning
Refer not to me nor who I am
Encourage this vagueness
And shame me in to silence
My poetry is published
My unicorn unchained
I feel so brave and proud
Congratulations!
Which poems?
What book?
Bisexual poetry
Bisexual book
Bisexual me
And now the silence
The quieting of me
This won’t come up again
Family is visiting today
My turn never comes
They’ve learned not to ask
So I do not tell of MY Saturday
At the private club
Dancing naked on stage
Me all smiles and ringing laughter
Eyes shining and muscles flowing
Beautiful in my ladybug costume
Epilogue
I now dance about once a week at different venues in Toronto, either as a stripper or go-go dancer.
It is slowly building for me.
It transcends what people enjoy about art and dance; that is the sexual component of performance.
I have danced for gay men, gay women, trans persons and straight men and women.
The audiences are sometimes middle-aged plus but at other times everyone in the club was under 30.
Being bisexual gives me the unique opportunity to visit and experience different sexual realms.
Sometimes I am made welcome and other times I am cruelly and repeatedly excluded. I have met ageism, sexism, racism and gender divides across many groups.
It is tough slogging sometimes but how else does one grow their wings (or bunny ears)?
