susan carlton, this poem can be put off no longer, from bi any other name: bisexual people speak out, edited by Lorraine Hutchins and Lani Kaahumanu, 1991
Susan Carlton
This poem can be put off no longer
  1.
You don’t exist. He used to say it to my face: You don’t exist.
  2.
You’re what? What’s that? Oh. Can I watch sometime?
Yeah, I’ve heard that that’s trendy right now. You’re just trying to be cool. You’re just trying to be politically correct.
You’re a fence sitter. We’re all waiting for you to come out come down. We’re all waiting for you.
Which one are you more, really? Who makes you come the most?
You just take it wherever you can get it, don’t you?
We’re here to talk today about everybodexceptyou. We’re working for the rights of everybodyexceptyou. The oppression of everybodyexceptyou has got to end.
Don’t worry, you’ll grow out of it.
But you’re one of us. You can’t be one of us and one of those, too.
I could never sleep with you. I could never sleep with one of you. I might get dumped might get thrown over for one of them might get AIDS might die might lose all of my friends.
Oh, so is that why you always have such a hard time coming?
Yeah, I know that some people feel that way, but why do you always have to talk about it so much?
You can’t ever be monogamous/get married/have kids/ have a stable relationship, can you?
You’re just oversexed horny desperate confused. Why, you’d sleep with anyone, wouldn’t you?
Is this your way of telling me that you want to go to bed with me?
I went through that phase too. It lasted 2 minutes 2 months 6 months 2 years 10 years, but I saw the light eventually.
I feel that way too, but that doesn’t make me one of you.
  3.
WE KNOW THAT IT IS VERY DIFFICULT. WE KNOW EXACTLY HOW YOU FEEL. WE CAN HELP YOU. JUST STEP OVER HERE TO THIS NICE LITTLE BOX WE HAVE FOR YOU. THAT’S IT, STEP INSIDE. COZY, ISN’T IT? THERE NOW, WE’LL JUST PUT ON THIS LID NICE AND TIGHT. IF YOU BREATHE REAL SHALLOWLY, THERE SHOULD BE JUST ENOUGH AIR TO LIVE ON.
NOW, DOESN’T THAT FEEL BETTER?
  4.
and there is always that morning fourteen in Foster City, I woke up from what was not a dream in which the two of you had taught me the meaning of a new word
  epilogue(1)
“WE NEED TO HAVE THIS MEETING AT THIS TREE AIN’ EVEN BEEN PLANTED YET”
  Note:
(1) From June Jordan, “Calling All Silent Minorities,” in Naming Our Destiny, Thunder’s Mouth Press, 1989.
Anonymous: 
