Choosing a Profession
Choosing a Profession
Endless afternoon cures of melted butter,
cinnamon with white sugar on toast,
being seen. There was a blur first—tests
of hormones. Between two buildings,
led through an echoing tunnel, x-rays, blood
and tissue samples the nurse threatened
to do twice if I didn’t shut up. We think
he will be normal, the endocrinologist
reported. At twelve, I weighed eighty
pounds. Dad, channeling Darwin,
Man
encouraged sailing. It’s either that or force-feed
him shortbread. At the first lesson the wind
tossed me. I spent most of afternoon in
the drink, too slight to keep the boom
from swinging wild. I waited for rescue,
clinging to the fin on the boat’s underside.
Drying on the dock, I heard the invisible
chirp of cicadas, intention. I folded myself
into origami jibs, masculinity. Winter,
fresh snow replaced our footprints, hazed
Swimmer
in blue light, on the way to lessons. Calm
of the empty pool before I stepped
into vast teal water. The only skill that stuck
was drown-proofing. It’s easier to float
than fight. Afterward I tiptoed on the gooey
locker room floor, through an orange door,
emerged into the chlorine overheat
of the lobby, where dad bought us
crullers for fifty cents each. You’ll survive,
he assured; his lips glazed with honey.
Poetry
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March 22,
2023
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1-minute
read
Gordon Taylor
(he/him) is a queer poet who walks an ever-swaying wire of technology, health care and poetry. A 2022 Pushcart Prize nominee, his poems have appeared in or are forthcoming in Narrative, Rattle Poet's Respond, Event, Grain, Banshee and Pangyrus. Gordon was the winner of the 2022 Toronto Arts & Letters Club Foundation Poetry Award and was a finalist in Narratives’s 14th Annual Poetry Contest. In his spare time Gordon is a volunteer reader for Five South Magazine. He writes to invite people into a world they may not have seen before.