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My Transvestite Uncle Is Missing

Uncle Rachel, the narrator remembers their childhood together dancing to Aretha Franklin and being taught to enjoy music. The narrator has heard that Uncle Rachel may have died and calls out to him, wanting to sing a song and hear one of Uncle Rachel's stories again. Upon hearing news of Uncle Rachel's death, the narrator has a breakdown, injuring their head in the shower and reading the Song of Solomon for comfort. The narrator refuses to sing at the funeral that was held without them and touches themselves as if still loved, asking Uncle Rachel if Death appears sexy without modesty.

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441 views1 page

My Transvestite Uncle Is Missing

Uncle Rachel, the narrator remembers their childhood together dancing to Aretha Franklin and being taught to enjoy music. The narrator has heard that Uncle Rachel may have died and calls out to him, wanting to sing a song and hear one of Uncle Rachel's stories again. Upon hearing news of Uncle Rachel's death, the narrator has a breakdown, injuring their head in the shower and reading the Song of Solomon for comfort. The narrator refuses to sing at the funeral that was held without them and touches themselves as if still loved, asking Uncle Rachel if Death appears sexy without modesty.

Uploaded by

api-329586261
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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1.

Questions
I remember you so Elvis Prestley-thin
And ever about the army (now I know
The whys of that), and I remember remembering you:
Before breasts, before European wigs, when
The etc. of your sexuality was a secret,
And you babysat me, and we danced to Aretha,
And you taught me scream for the joy of a
A song on the radio (Romeo requests this from
His grave!), and I cant call you, whats
your new legal name? Is it in the phone book?
Are you that official? Ive heard youre
Dead, call me collect please. Im on my own,
And Uncle Rachel if you were hear tonight Id
Id sing to you: Pretty Woman walking down
The street of dreams, and you could tell me
That story again where godl is spun out of straw.
2. Answers
News of your old death, first I danced in the shower with
clothes on, cracked my green head against a corner gave you a
bloody birth in my mind, gave myself a satisfying scar,
watched an Anne Lennox video where she had a red towel on
her head, I mirrored her, white towel to stop the bleeding
inside my own nest of a skull, then I screamed and screamed,
but the police never came, snow fell from constellations,
everything was on fire, fast forward, tumbling and I stupidly
read the Song of Solomon for comfort, my filled up with
blood, I strapped a big bandage around my head, Im a poor
mans Wilford Owen, Im my own damnation, youre dead.
I wont sing at the funeral that took place without me, the
sun will hear my confessions, my naked body on a rooftop,
cruel cock crowing as if another ordinary morning and it is,
I did survive, I, someone shows up to make sure Im not in a
coma. Im not, not with all these memories, I touch myself as
if Im still loved. Uncle Rachel, does Death look sexy without
a fig leaf?

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