1730 — an LGBTQ+ poem
these flowers were too exotic for your taste
“To extinguish this infernal heat that has infected this land.”*
These strange inflexions, this foulest of diseases, this most evasive species,
Accused of this most heinous crime, this most detestable of sins that had inflicted so many.
They flamed your rage,
Against the odds, they blossomed and bore fruits in the harsh water-logged soil.
In these ports of free trade, you forbade the ‘trade’ and love.
Indiscriminately caught without discretion
Plucked from the soil with no respect for rank,
These exotic foul flora had to be banished from the lowlands.
This flora could not be allowed to blossom, so you sought to uproot and destroy them.
By your decree, they should not be buried in the soil lest their spores desecrate the ground.
Like the witches, they should be burnt or buried in the deepest ocean.
1730, they dragged you under the water.
Rootless: They plucked these most evasive species from the fertile mud under the docks.
You valued the speckled Tulip and turned it into a commodity, but these flowers were too exotic for…
