Liv Mammone
Advice to the Able-Bodied Poet Entering the Disability Poetics Workshop*
For Jennifer Bartlett and Shira Erlichman
- Let's just save time—Yes I have seen Rain Man, The Miracle Worker, My Left Foot, or, more recently, The Theory of Everything. I wanna fuck Daniel Day Lewis too but can we not
- If all the Several Black Friends and the Special Needs Kids everybody's mom/cousin/friend/friend's mom/cousin's friend's mom has ever worked with got together, they could overthrow the government and we'd see some real change. Those people aren't reference points for me. There are no reference points for me.
- This isn't the Whose Life Sucks More? game. You have seen moments I can never imagine.
- When asking about my disability, please remember you have Siri. What you really need to know will come up in the poems
- Similarly, if you decide you need to ask my diagnosis, I can guarantee those ugly sounding words are all I have in common with whoever you know. If you don't know anyone, asking me What does that mean isn't ingratiating. I'm not a painting by Warhol. Asterisk: if you're just meeting me and that's your opening? That, or so what happened to you—you're suspect. I have a favorite band, a gaggle of furry children. Let's start there.
- The words disability, disorder, and disease aren't synonymous.
- And while we're at it, let's talk about language. You're here for that above all right? Me too. But I get to decide how it's done, not you. If I say cripple, it's because I like how the consonants break like bones. I'm not handing you a membership card. If I say call me "special needs" and I'll roll over your foot, it doesn't mean that softness won't comfort others. Political correctness is kind of like using correct pronouns. So many words have been made up and thrown onto my flesh. None were my name.
- If you didn't get the above reference to pronouns, I'll write a separate piece for you.
- Your ear will need to curve around the rhythm of speech. Your pace will hunger to leave me limping. You will want to catch me as I lurch forward; lead me by elbow or hand; not to repeat yourself; to talk as fast as you do out there. Slow down. Slow everything down.
- The phrase but you don't look sick can go fuck itself with a moving train covered in chainsaws.
- Don't use the word inspiration unless you're talking about Whitman, Langston Hughes, John Keats or Jesus
- Matter of fact, leave Jesus out of it altogether; he's busy enough.
- It isn't a wheelchair; it's a fully automated battle station. It isn't a cane; it's a dousing rod. It isn't a limp; it's a swagger. It isn't a stim—it's how my fabulous self is pulling magic out of the air.
- I'm not your metaphor. Phantom limbs, deafness, or blindness as figurative language in your poems will result in my unhinging my fucking jaw.
- If you find yourself saying something that begins with no offense, but I want you to stop. Take a breath. And say to yourself these three sentences: Does this need to be said? Does this need to be said right now? Does this need to be said right now by me? If the answer to any of those is no, return to start do not collect $200.
- Laugh.
- Be honest.
- Your head had best be a microscope. Ask yourself why you're here. But question my motives, too. Slam your hand hard on my buttons.
- Some kind of dragon needed slaying to get to this room, whether it be the nasty bus driver or the thoughts of suicide.
- Speak for me, not over me.
- Yes, I can have sex. I hope everybody in here writes a jam so graphic it makes your goosebumps mambo just so you never ask a disabled person that ever again, unless you're offering.
- I don't think shy people become poets, but in case you are, you best chill if you fear the body. If I'm gonna write a colostomy bag free verse or a pantoum about how hard it is to negotiate my period on crutches, I wanna do it in peace.
- You need Advil? Guaranteed, somebody got you.
- Getting here is hard. Even if the workshop is in my living room, getting here is hard. So somebody’s probably gonna show up in pajamas, crocs, mismatched socks, unshowered, heair falling loose from a ponytail—whatever. Either they’re embarrassed or don’t give a fuck. Either way, they don’t need you mentioning it.
- If I have to leave the room while you're reading, sorry in advance.
- Let me point out, Tiny Tim has been fucking me over since 1843. If I'm happy, it's taken for a miracle; if I'm not, I remind them of all they have and all the work they have to do. I could be a big smile, a raised fist, an eye glittered with tears.
- This is the place I come to sharpen my teeth; to weep until I am the Danube. I don't care if you're frightened.
- Trigger warnings. That is all.
- Halle Berry, Harriet Tubman, Orlando Bloom, Clinton, Christie, Darwin. A lot of your faves are disabled. Just like a lot of your faves are actually bisexual. (More breaking news at 11.)
- And while we're on that, being disabled doesn't mean you've checked off your minority box on the form. Just saying.
- I don't want to talk about me; how's my stanza structure?
- Intersectionality isn't a buzzword.
- I will ask if I need your help. Repeat this a billion times.
- Related note: you wouldn't grab someone on the subway. You'd let your face smash into the pole before steadying yourself on the person next to you. So why in the name of God's teeth would you touch me or whatever apparatus I may have without asking?!
- Remember, you're one slip in the shower, doctor's visit, missed turn away from being me.
- If I fall, the way you gasp hurts worse than impact.
- I'm not blaming you. I'm saying Pay attention.
- Inevitably, someone will be forced to stop coming. Email them; that'd be cool.
- Even if you pity me, don't mess around when it comes to editing.
- Your body is so damn fucking beautiful. It's like nothing else.
- Please remember that compliance with any or all of the aforementioned will not result in praise of any kind, cookies, medals, or otherwise. Thank you.
- People are like poems. They don't get finished, they just stop.
|