The Dyke March and the Benevolent Queen

(Listening to Phantogram - Fall In Love)                          
                            
You were bending my mind with the narcissism of your smile, which had been recently released from some theoretical cage of its ivory tower no longer captivating my juice; yet the dynamic forces of academia still found “optional” only to bind and gag us; only this time out in the wild.                                               
There we were, at the Dyke March and not even rain could subvert these forges of estrogen. The Lesbian Avengers (those were our tops-giving the orders: if you can’t take an order, then you can’t lead-simple): these sisters were very strategic (in the trenches right with us-the benevolent queen) not just administering from fucking some citadel-that’s love                                        
Ironically, they were still doing the grind work; the psychological fittest on the front lines shielding the rest of us: their loyal subjects- ignoring the possible legalities of showing too much or that there might have been decency laws, in place, to disrupt anyone from hacking the personal and political.                                              
             
Irreverence was a mating call for birds parading plumage; excusing particles; movement deflected. Primordial seduction; hijacking the city streets with black duct taped nipples. X marked the spot, for a grassroots organization supporting historical roots; challenging hegemony- fostering queer resilience through alliance.            
           
Street activism was a political tool in Chicago, L.A. and NY that made organizing possible; particularly in the 1980's. There was this determination to exhibit a message to the general public at large that the battle between institutions and activists would boil down to control over the streets.                          
               
Empowerment was worth less to an oozing amateur like myself ignorant to the "come up"; exposure had its perks. Comradery was a spillover of fury from the previous decade and exhibition was not only the antithesis to body shaming but also took the novelty out of sexual objectification. Brazen was most powerful in the hands of the collective.            
Some rubenesque goddess with lilac toes splashing the water, mindlessly turning the heads on non-denominational chicks but for the first time in my life; I saw conflict. Women’s resistance was walking in opposition to bible thumpers waving their signs, slurs and slogans like the Klan-made to see hate up close.                            
                             
(Never seen nothing like it in my life; us or them- I don’t know which one.)