Robin Gow

Two Poems

MAKEUP TUTORIAL 2: DRAG QUEEN MAKEUP

One is not born but rather becomes a woman

-Simone de Beauvoir

1.

Begin with the pocket knife—

the one your father gave you in the hopes

you would one day rip a fish from water

and slice into its scales right there

on the edge of river.

2.

One is not born but rather becomes

a drag queen. You start with the bones—

painting them stain glass. You build

a cathedral of everything feminine.

3.

Trace the distance between the words

feminine and female—cut the crease.

Collapse the words until you get

minine and male.

4.

Add fangs and leopard print.

5.

Teach your hair the meaning

of volume by reading People Magazine

into the scalp.

No hair dresser will know

how to make you whole.

You will have to do this alone.

6.

Blend until the makeup is

part of the skin and then blend

the skin until it is part of the bone.

7.

When I say beat your face

I don’t mean it in like you think I do.

I mean this is a matter of truth vs. possibility.

I mean carry the pocket knife.

I mean kill the fish.

CHANEL No. 5

How many cares one loses when one decides

not to be something but to be someone.

-Coco Chanel

I smelled like synthetic girl.      

A girl is vanilla or lavender or cucumber melon.

            Respectable women choose a single flower.

A girl, however, is a bright splash of forever.

Close your eyes.

Breathe in the girls.       Women somewhere else.

Discovering a bottle of perfume

in my grandmother’s womb.

            Squeezing the atomizer.

A burst of body.

            An invitation. This is what

I would taste like if I were born female instead

                        of splicing.

My XY chromosomes shiver

and turn female. Ovaries into atomizers.

            Coco Chanel inspects them and alerts

The Third Reich[1] that there is a blurring

            among us. Everything beautiful

can be traced to something horrific—

            That is the nature of a commodity.

I grow my own girlhood in the CVS parking lot

                        and sell it for a fair price before

            they come find me.

                        Somewhere along the line

                                    we started believing

                                                beautiful is the same thing

                                                            as good.

                                    I grasp the atomizer tighter

                        hoping to spray the bottle dry.

                                    Jasmine is the scent

                        of whores like me.

            I make an offering to the moon and its white lid

is coming loose.

            A spilling of fragrance. A bottle

                        costs $80 on Amazon and it could arrive

any second to listen to

all my internal conversations. The now and forever

abstract floral fragrance[2] of my teeth

            is waiting to diffuse from a shower head.

There are cross-dressers among us—

                                    they could smell like anything.

[1] Coco Chanel, known for her contributions to beauty and fashion, was a Nazi spy

[2] https://www.chanel.com/us/fragrance/women/c/7x1x1x30/n5/

Robin Gow is the author of OUR LADY OF PERPETUAL DEGENERACY (Tolsun Books 2020) and the chapbook HONEYSUCKLE (Finishing Line Press 2019). Their poetry has recently been published in POETRY, New Delta Review, and Roanoke Review. They is a graduate student and professor at Adelphi University pursing an MFA in Creative Writing. They is the Editor-at-Large for Village of Crickets and Social Media Coordinator for Oyster River Pages.