Institut für Sexualwissenschaft 1919
When you’ve learned your body has no history
When you’ve learned your body has no ancestors
When you’ve learned your body has no inheritance
When you’ve learned your body has no photo album
When you’ve learned your body has no preschool
When you’ve learned your body has no kitchen
When you’ve learned your body has no mother
When you’ve learned your body has no city
When you’ve learned your body has no house
When you’ve learned your body has no monument
When you’ve learned your body has no president
When you’ve learned your body has no God
When you’ve learned your body is illegible
When you’ve learned your safety hinges on invisibility
When you’ve learned your transgender body was born
on flyleaf & left no blood or words in a known language
I will tell you that we have existed, oh, we have existed &
we will make a museum for all that’s been taken from us.
Gallery: 30 Jahre als Mann lebte
You walk into a morgue
which is also a gallery
It’s an interactive exhibit
A voice instructs you:
EXTRACT THE GENDER FROM THE BODY
You notice the body
The body is not your own
a man in a long tan trench coat
First, you undress him
respectfully of course
You put on his clothing
it fits you perfectly
Following the diagram
you use the surgical scissors
to slice clean from his collar bone
to his belly button
He doesn’t bleed with
your incisions
he cuts like wrapping paper
& from inside you remove
two plastic barbie dolls
(his first & second wife)
a pair of baby shoes
(his adopted daughter)
a big red hibiscus flower
(his vagina).
Where is the gender?
You ask, concerned
You know where it’s supposed
to be, right to the left
of the heart
The voice demands
EXTRACT THE GENDER FROM THE BODY
So, you just take out the heart
which is red which is close
enough to pink & pink has
been a boy & a girl color
The Tammany politician “Mr.” Murray-Hall,
Lived as a man for 30 years, was married twice
and had an adoptive daughter who
was surprised when the coroner
noted her father’s gender.
You put back what you found
You may now climb inside
if you’d like, there’s
enough room
Inside his body everything
is amethyst, but not real
amethyst, just grape
rock candy
Take some with you
as a souvenir
Exhibit: Die Zwischenstufentheorie
Play hopscotch anatomy
We understand male and female sexual intercourse
You: decoder ring, you combination lock
You remember when in the 7th grade
you learned (formally) about sex
You paired up (boy/girl/boy/girl)
& made babies, rolling dice for their genes
However, all conceivable combinations, all possible combinations of male and
female characteristics occur
Your baby had XY chromosomes
IT’S A BOY
Your baby had XY chromosomes
& XXX chromosomes
Your baby strips in the middle
of the museum
like a fountain
for pennies
Your baby LOVES it
the genitals “A”
You forgot to name the baby
& they tell you to call them “it.”
It spits out dice on the floor
It changes its chromosomes
turning them over like garden stones
beneath; a world of crawly insects
the remaining physical characteristics “B”, thirdly the sex drive “C”, fourthly the
other mental characteristics “D”, male “m”, female “w” or mixed
“M + W”
It feeds you alphabet soup
in the high chair & you learn you
have M+W chromosomes
You’re not a girl—they opened
a manila folder between your legs
when you were born
& it read:
“GIRL (sort of)”
The first horizontal row of Table I is [ ]
Robin Gow’s poetry has recently been published in Poetry, 45th Parallel and the Roanoke Review. Their first book is forthcoming with Tolsun Books. He is a graduate student and professor at Adelphi University pursuing an MFA in creative writing. He is the editor at large for Village of Crickets and social media coordinator for Oyster River Pages. He has given LGBT inclusivity trainings at colleges and healthcare networks across the country.
*These poems are from Robin’s chapbook manuscript, A Museum for that Which No Longer Exists, which was selected by Selah Saterstrom as the runner-up of this year’s Chapbook Contest.