You say black, white, blinded by color,
culture forthcoming as genes.
I was born in withdrawal & then later,
once every hour, started to yell.
Touch couldn't hurt-----could it-----
arms limp as gelatin numbly fumbling
for some bond.
I was given for three days to somebody's
hands & after that, a few weeks here,
a few weeks there, till contact
was a Monopoly game & I kept getting
held up before pass, before go.
I know it sounds stupid, halted in
development amid all of that change,
yet one learns to hold back, glaze eyes
& think: I must be a doll, defective,
because the market won't let Nobody
Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. Recently his work has appeared in CROW NAME, WORDPEACE and DuckuckMongoose.Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations and allies predominantly before Stonewall, The Chroma Museum - The Chroma Museum (weebly.com)