Spectrum of Masculinity
for David Bowie


The universe became
pretend pretentious, one pupil dilated.
Self-aware in snaggle tooth,
accessorized. Able to adorn itself, sing.

The universe became
-ly self-aware
art every inch a king.

What is it that *space
makes us think of future-past
higher consciousness
angels and aliens.

Synthetic wombs to survive
the dark cosmos
cosmic truth of space
all the matter energy speaking

to us through physics
data or just God particles
codpiece, cosmonauts.
Space is the cutest metonymy
and metaphor.

Yes you can be this queer – here – Earth
When you’ve had red hair and no eyebrows
you have to have a sense of humor.
Alien drag – opposite of androgyny

Beauty of the abundant spectrum of
masculinity a wink of sarcasm the tease
of nipple above wrestling boots
The Old Grey Whistle Test pink eye on

Top of the Pops rebel just the tip gents.
Pirate patch, red red bulge on daytime TV.
We call this deeply sartorial life
all candied over with art ~ genderful

(sometimes) one can wildly resist anything
except temptation avoid the first person
bleeding out in cut-up stanzas, lost planets
and a steady diet of milk and white pages.

We all have a unique idiosyncratic
and never but often near identitcal
origin of love myth Labyrinth
tender young queering then debauch
amorph-androgyn-discography découvrir
flirting with ominous symbolism
Bowie burls & goys, girls & boys
suffering for our art shaving dying
surviving piercing solos assymetric electric guitar
sweet head fan club status lightning bolt tattoos
bitter comes out better on the bi-curious stolen youth
futurepast there with me through headphones
always with me visiting girls in PA
or virginity taking boys in NY
mixtape or discman a British goblin king
with an affinity for glitter
coming from my ear buds
the entire floor-length psychedelia LP
as a twenty five minute one track mp3
gifted mix CD cheekbones you were there with all of us
copied & sharpied stardust at the bottom of lockers
like 5 years detritus, exclusive interviews
with first wives it’s all so surreal
sad glorious easy nostalgia
and velvet goldmine the song never sounded so ominous
-ly carnivorous, romantically scary
carnival rotting into a beachfront
swamp of insecure in-betweens
sweaty palms around makeup brushes,
goodbye kisses blown to reflections


Artwork © jojo Lazar

Artwork © jojo Lazar


jojo Lazar is a multimedia artist and Boston-based vaudevillian “burlesque poetess” and ukulele lady with an MFA in poetry from Lesley. She rocks out with her frock out in “steamcrunk” phenomenon Walter Sickert & The Army of Broken Toys.