Yes, well, a pathetic attempt at Latin plurals... this is a repost dusted down out of the closet, remembered initially through Jude's "the Body Poetic" title, then by my stream of consciousness from my Brokeback Mountain "Say" write... and today by Nordette's most brilliant "Tango to the Death of Time" and even latterly by Dale's "Painted Bodies" poem... which just goes to prove this work's point, I guess... !! K xx

HOMOS POETICI

Natural cross dressers,
poets wear another's feelings,
inhabit each other's genes,
try to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes.

They apply each other's make-up
from diverse emotional palettes;

make considered choices,
blushing each other's cheekbones,
glossing someone else's lips,
shadowing another's eyes.

Loud and proudly they emerge,
come out in shared sublime:

mouths seared with words that are read;
hearts and secret skin tattooed
with brushings of a mutual kiss.

Majestic transvestic.