You Can’t Be That, You’re Too Ugly

How “Bubba Moon” became the joke that
Bugs Bunny nor Frank N Furter intended.
(Youtube Reading, here)

Also, I’m trans*. Happy Coming Out Day, 2014. —Nathan B

I thought poetry would be the simplest expression
For those who’ve witnessed my social recession

When I was a kid, I felt misunderstood
I was called bad, when I tried to be good.

I did what I wanted, and not what they said,
Claimed too inappropriate as a child, instead.
Told what to do, and what things were,
and I didn’t like the world they conferred.

Teachers upset, blaming my nature
But they only wanted me ingratiate her.
Coloring in the lines, staying silent ‘till asked,
Raising my hand in knowledge bypassed.

Telling them I was there, I was always aware
of the answers they claimed difficult to ensnare.
For the mind of a child is an idiot, to them;
not a teacher’s problem. Not family, nor friend.

Prepacked as a kid, measuring years by the rule
of which teachers I must follow in line at this school.
Kids would learn how to appease their master,
Making fun of me, bringing her to laughter.

And so I became a class clown,
“Deserving” of blame, hiding my all, & my frown.
Intelligent and spastic; explained by ADD’s rise,
“Something more is going on,” I hopefully surmised.

“Life isn’t as simple as I see on TV,”
And yet it was what I tuned in to see.
“Jocks” belittling “Nerds”, pecking orders a sad ‘fact’,
Was life like what the sitcoms re-enact?

Cartoons a brief respite, showing me that’s not true,
Bugs Bunny in drag lets Elmer misconstrue
Whatever he thinks—that “she’s” a babe!
Just as it’s true, it shows Elmer a knave.

Predetermined to play his role in their fight,
Elmer never cared if he was wrong; He’s Right
“Rabbits are meant to be killed, and eaten in season”
What more do Hunters need for a reason?

And when Bugs doth protest, simply resting in bed
Elmer breaks down the door, and puts a gun to his head.
“I know what you are, you’re a Rabbit—first!
And so Rabbit Stew will quench my thirst!”

When you have a hammer, everything looks like nails;
Teachers to “Kids”, Hunters to “Quails”,
“A Man” to “weak women”; Or “Madonnas” to “Sin”
“The Smart” to the “lame”, the wise to within.

So when Bugs femmed up the best he might,
To fool blind Elmer with unseeing sight,
Elmer played his role with dumbstruck bewilderment.
His ideal worshipper would play coy; be indifferent.

Bugs did exactly that, pretending he didn’t know
of the doormat Elmer became, lying so low
And many tricks like this he employed
Bugs a coyote; A step ahead when destroyed.

Life wasn’t as simple, I concluded from this,
Years of cartoons brought me similar bliss.
Parables and literals, stories funny and revealing,
Simple at first, but deep metaphors concealing.

Bubba Moon appeared on my CRT screen
“A fat bastard making Sailor Moon obscene.”
A pretty highschool girl, a role model for women,
Modeled by a fat man, body hair not hidden.

His brilliant idea became flung like an insult,
his loving joke now twisted as a result,
into “ugliness masquerading as truth,”
and our society can’t tolerate a lie, it’s uncouth.

“We know what things are, they’re clearly defined.
If you point somewhere, I can draw a line.
It’s quite simple to get from A to B;
only idiots or invalids tend to disagree.”

How frustrating it is: to tell a joke
to someone who thinks that you just misspoke;
to wear a dress when you have a cock;
or to bind huge tits to avoid a male flock.

They know you, they see you, as clear as day,
Believing just as Elmer Fudd might say.
So if I’m too pretty to be taken for my prick,
what happens when another finds my dick?

Is it anger? Is it frustration? Do they think that I lie?
Or am I showing them a joke that they can’t justify?
Are they too blind to seek my deeper truth?
Nay, I’m found the repulsive one, forsooth!

I let them in my pants, to discover the lie;
I hiked up my skirt, and didn’t care how high.
I masqueraded their interest; fooling them was my aim
But “I’m just being me!” I proclaim.

I’m not the stupid kid, nor the ignorant jock,
I’m not a bimbo, nor human schlock;
I’m not a teacher, but I’ll tell what I know
So if you’ve asked, I’ll let it show.

I live, I breathe, and I am valid just like you,
Don’t let anybody tell us that’s not true.

I’ll speak my words to answer what you ask,
but believing them is entirely your task.
We may fear liars taking advantage of us,
and so I find it OK to mistrust.

Remember then, if you inquire:
do you react to pain, or to inspire?

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