I love the vast and varied weirdness of humans,
Our bodies and brains, how they change,
How we make them change, how they stay the same,
How we make them stay the same, and how
Things sometimes move fast or slow or out of our hands.
I love color and hair and clothes and shoes and dancing
And food and jewels and the shelters we build.
I love our resourcefulness and thumbs, creativity
On screens and pages and canvas, skin-deep and deeper.
I love glasses and prosthetics and implants and grafts,
Pacemakers and sutures, additions, removals,
I love hormones and mutations and bursts of bright colors
In a PET scan. I love our differences and beg
That we resist demonization into homogenization.
We are part of our own creation. We were made
To sew clothes and make bread and carve canes
And amputate limbs. We are born incomplete so that we may
Color in our own lines—or outside of them, if we prefer.
Homo sapiens suspicion is the reason why we’re what’s left
Of the hominids, with leftovers in our DNA; the reason
Why we resist and war against difference, battling
Ever false Uncanny Valley, even as we schism, split,
And spin in new directions to new beats, new songs.
Even as we repeat old rhythms, like a fugue,
We make a beautiful new melody. Please, please, please,
Do not cut the songs short from fear, from lies
Created to justify the reaction. Listen to the music
Instead and see if it’s something you can snap to.