“I Do Not Have a Woman’s History” by Ulysses Tetu


Tongue drips
Mud on her flushed chest as she continues her
Anatomy lesson

These are breasts
Batting against them with the palm of her hand
And the navel, the ticklish descent of fingers
Oh and this
Smirking at the zipper

Sodden, juiced, stinking
(Makes a hard) C (sound)
I tell her to stop it
Tugging my shirt back on


I pull on a pink sleeveless
A lot like Dad’s except
More rhinestones on the shoulders
New shirts to don, a T from a hunting store
Black long john top
Plaid flannel
But the stones still poke through my layers

I shrug his hands off my shoulders at the door and run, so excited for
My first day(dream) as a professional Lesbian, or a boy, or
I can’t read the banner in the front office that says
“Welcome to the Second Grade”


In eleven years, he’ll be about the same age I was then, asking me
Boy or girl
And I’ll tell him butch

No but man or woman
Which I won’t tell him
Femme-sexing masc, bloke-loving beau
But I will say man

I’ll be in the bathroom when he finds
My license, where my eyes are BLU
Where my weight is 172
And I scored an F

Standing there, 208 pounds of grey-eyed guy
He’ll shriek, staring at my chest
Girl girl girl, you’re a girl


And if I went missing
I’d never be found
They’d check every women’s bathroom in the country
The one’s I’ve never been in
Wish I could stamp “trans youth” all over me


Instead of “Lesbian continuum”
Because I am not a woman
I do not come from women, I’m
The product of generations of
Butches, tomboys, and males
No mothers, no sisters, no aunts, no
Joan of Arcs or Lucy Ann Lobdells, just
Jeans and Josephs, Mary Walkers and Union soldiers
And me, I think a Nicolai de Raylan lost amongst them
Which is the thought I snap that smut shut with before burying my face in another


Liz (short for Ulysses) Tetu writes gag comics, essays, fiction, blog posts, even university assignments on sex and Paganisms. His poetry and prose appears/will appear in Eternal Haunted SummerHaute Dish, and the Queer Masculinity Zine. At Metropolitan State University, he’s enjoying a four-year undergraduate degree in Creative Sexual Communication. When he finds time to put down the pen, Liz picks up the controller and seduces dragons.