There’s a tinted revolving door in here.
Every time I come out, I’m still in the closet.
Saw a therapist for all my Lutheran fears—
doused hell’s candle, now it’s dark in the closet.
Out shopping in heels and lipstick and lace,
got a whole new wardrobe still in the closet.
Watched Nancy Pelosi come on Drag Race
and say get to the poles (or get back in the closet).
I travel, am tolerable in most states’ cities.
Like the tabernacle, I carry the closet.
The kind of white person white liberals pity.
It’s easy to think of yourself in the closet.
Praise Marsha P. Johnson’s first brick at the riot,
but we’re still in the stone walls of the closet.
Chris Watkins is a genderqueer poet, writer, and environmental activist living in Tallahassee, FL. They earned their PhD in poetry and ecocriticism at Florida State University and currently serve as the Academics and Partnerships Coordinator of FSU's Sustainable Campus. Chris's recent work has appeared in Poetry Magazine, Cincinnati Review, and The Harvard Review among other journals. Their debut collection, The Drag Gospel of Queer Jesus, is forthcoming with Saturnalia Books.