TRANS FATS

by Chris Kaiser

This is not a real book. Its cover has been A-I generated at Shutterstock by The New Verse News to accompany this poem.

Trump falsely claims children being forced into gender transition ops at school in rambling fantasy-filled rally speech. —The Independent, September 9, 2024

I sent my boy to his fifth grade class 

and he returned a girl, 

apparently operated on by the school nurse,

without our permission, 

just like Trump predicted. 

The school also confiscated his backpack 

(or her backpack? I’m not sure. 

It was easier to imagine others 

with this woke problem). 

In his—ok, wait here while I ask 

my previous son what pronoun to use. 

He said she wants to play 

with his sister’s dolls, 

while she said he wants an operation too. 

I’m confused. 

And then my wife mentioned polyamory,

and I said, we already store our guns 

in more than one bunker. 

The book they confiscated from my son’s — 

wait here—

“Terry!” 

He said she wants to spell her name with an ‘i’.

The book they confiscated from Terri’s backpack was

“Trans Fats: The Real Story,”

which the school librarian, 

who moonlights as the science teacher, 

thought was about fat boys transitioning 

into skinny girls, 

and vice reversa. 

Though Trump railed against 

these secret surgeries as if they’re evil incarnate, 

I’m not so sure. 

Terri has since won All State 

in her youth softball league

and her sister is on track to win gold 

in boy’s figure skating.

Chris Kaiser’s poetry has appeared in Rattle, Eastern Iowa Review, Dissident Voice, Better Than Starbucks, and The Scriblerus, as well as in anthologies from Moonstone Press. His poetry also appeared in Action Moves People United, a music and spoken word project partnered with the United Nations.

DRILL

by Jane Edna Mohler   

  

In the confident glow
of an iPhone, we pass
a silent hour in the school’s
utility room with dead
beetles, frantic
spiders, and the librarian
browsing Pinterest.
 
My back against
a door that won’t lock,
foot braced on the railing
of stairs leading to oblivious 
motors and sweating pipes 
accustomed to the peace 
of working alone.
 
The librarian scrolls fervently. 
Which chicken recipe 
will she choose? Maybe 
Easter themed cupcakes
or a floral wreath crafted
for the family gathering 
if those gunshots we hear are real. 

From National Association of School Psychologists: “After an armed assailant drill: Emotional or physical reactions can be delayed following a highly intense simulation drill.”

Jane Edna Mohler is Bucks County Poet Laureate Emeritus (Pennsylvania). Recent publications include Gargoyle, River Heron Review, and One Art. Her collection Broken Umbrellas was published by Kelsay Books. She is the Poetry Editor of the Schuylkill Valley Journal in Philadelphia.

LIBRARIAN/HAPPY EASTER/X

by Annie Cowell

“Twenty-two years after a pair of notebooks filled with Charles Darwin’s early musings went missing from the Cambridge University Library, they were anonymously returned in good condition last month along with a note to the elated librarian: ‘Happy Easter.’” —The New York Times, April 5, 2022. Photo: One of the returned notebooks included Charles Darwin’s famous “tree of life” drawing, which maps out how related species could diverge from a common ancestor. Credit: Cambridge University Library via The New York Times

It wasn’t just the fatty bloom of ancient leather

(although my fingers itched to touch it),

but more the lignin laden bibliosmia

which wafts from the wrinkled patina.

Vanilla essence of Darwin.

What lay inside mattered less to me

than the shadow of the procreator,

of the man whose mind gave Life to the Tree.

An aura which goes beyond the scientific,

of ink-stained fingers lacing 

his beard with brown and grey before 

penning those spindly branches. 

Two decades, I have been their guardian.

Whilst they were presumed missing

mislaid, misfiled, misplaced,

I have inhaled Darwin; stared at the covers

through half-closed eyes,

felt his ghostly hands on mine. 

It is only when he whispers

the books are overdue,

that I know I must return them.

The librarian looks a jolly sort so 

I choose a pink gift bag

and leave them with a note,

happy to have played a part 

in the mystery

of the Origins of Life.

Author’s Note: This poem was inspired by the return of Darwin’s notebooks to Cambridge University. I wanted to imagine what had motivated both the taking and the returning of them.

Annie Cowell is a former teacher living in Cyprus. She has poems forthcoming in a number of publications. @AnnieCowell3