Drag King by Terri Kirby Erickson

Drag King

So, my granddaughter is a drag king
and that’s okay by me. I never liked dresses,
myself. Too breezy. They—which is their
preferred pronoun according to their partner
Clarisse, a nice girl from Poughkeepsie—
live two doors down from a fella who got
arrested last Wednesday for flashing his you-
know-what at the dry cleaners on Fifth. The
owner said she thought the old man’s junk
needed a good steam press, which I think
is pretty funny. Anyway, my granddaughter’s
stage name is Bradford Pair, and they have
a huge following. People seem to love them
almost as much as I do. She, I mean they,
look great as a guy. Their sideburns could
use a trim, but other than that, their look
is pure perfection. The act is a hoot, too, if
maybe a bit raunchy for my taste. What can
I say? My typical Saturday night includes
watching The Lawrence Welk Show or
I Dream of Jeannie on YouTube and hitting
the sheets by 9 p.m. Last time I saw my
granddaughter perform was on my eighty-
fifth birthday. They put me right up front
at the VIP table, so I’m the one who caught
the sequined jock strap they like to toss
into the crowd at the end of their show.
But, I have to admit—I reached for it.

*

Terri Kirby Erickson is the author of seven full-length collections of award-winning poetry, including A Sun Inside My Chest, winner of the International Book Award for Poetry, and her latest collection, Night Talks: New & Selected Poems, both published by Press 53. Her work has appeared in a wide variety of literary journals, anthologies, magazines, and newspapers, including “American Life in Poetry,” Asheville Poetry Review, Atlanta Review, JAMA, Poetry Foundation, Poet’s Market, Sport Literate, storySouth, The SUN, The Writer’s Almanac, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Verse Daily, and many more. Among her numerous awards are the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize and a Nautilus Silver Book Award. She lives in Pfafftown, NC, with her husband and his extensive array of Loudmouth golf pants.