Bluebells stuck in-

between toes of

gay man laying

alone in woods.

Queering the landscape

with every breath

as leaves fall.

Feeling an affinity

with changing landscape,

the liminal lure

of woodland wonderlands

that appear unexpectedly

in suburban sprawl

where green hues

paint their palette

over concrete grey.

 

Laying alone feeling

in sync with

the inherent queerness

in nature’s cycle.

Popular culture forgets,

that in nature

many things cannot

be easily taxonomised,

labelled and packaged,

reduced to signifiers.

Queer as non-reductive

gives possibilty to 

dreaming and imagining,

living and breathing

in pursuit of

the realisation of

speculative queer ecologies.

 

Queer people spend

lifetimes coming out

more than once

in various scenarios

We are bluebells.

Wandering barefooted

through the bluebells

amongst brambled thorn.

And when stung,

when trampled over,

queer love is

our dock leaf  

to help us

dream and imagine,

live and breathe

speculative queer ecologies

once more again.