
Issue Seven · June 15, 2026
Napkins · Latest Poem · Help Wanted
Masculine Napkins

I am literally searching Etsy for masculine napkins. Rut ro. Etsy is not the place to be masculine.
Once my brother was teasing me again about my big nose, though his was as big. So, I punched him in that nose. Not hard. He looked at me, confused and hurt. Not physically hurt, just shocked his brother would do that to him. I’ll never forget how awful I felt in that moment. Another misfired attempt to do what a man was supposed to do. Defend yourself with a punch, right?
Later, I stopped printing my words with neat, artistic letters, square at the corners. Other guys were not doing this. Still, now, I keep my handwriting a bit sloppy, primitive. We all give up things to fit in, I suppose.
Then there’s my mom. The cub scouts had a Halloween party, and in she comes, cackling, black cone hat on her head. She hobbles to a cauldron in the middle of the room. Dry ice goes in, a steaming witch’s brew rises up. On another day after school, I found her doing a headstand. She also fractured a hand while belly dancing. Actually, doing a back bend while belly dancing.
My long-haired, Santana-listening mom was cool, and so was my Dad. He’d crack a subtle joke, and stand there, confident, not waiting to see if you got his joke. On a scout camping trip, the guy I was sharing a tent with said, “your Dad is so cool!”
Oh, the opposing forces at work on me. One, to avoid shame and try to be good. The other, wanting to be like my parents: living a life of freedom and adventure. These forces resulted in a weird compromise about the masculine napkins. I would make my own napkins. They’re pictured at the top of this essay. The one on the left is a joke. The one on the right is yet another confirmation that I should stick to writing.
For a long time, I was nowhere near as cool as my parents. Talking to your hermit crab in the back yard is not cool. Beer and marijuana and listening to AC/DC helped my image, though a neighbor boy still called me “Semi Tough” (a popular movie at the time). Calling me Semi Tough was mean, but also brilliant.
Semi Tough is searching Etsy for masculine napkins. Growth would be to to buy whatever f’n napkins I want. You don’t like my napkins? Bite my butt. Besides, how much time is any person on Earth going to devote to thinking about my napkins? What a waste of brain.
I hope this doesn’t disrespect my trans friends, but how liberating would it be to put on a dress and hit the town? And experience, perhaps, how women and trans people are treated. It could be a hell of a lot of fun, but I’m not sure I’m that brave. Would giving the finger to shame see demons collapse into dust? As if a day in a dress and I’d really be free.

Latest Poem
Irrigation
Intelligence I love you
More than my neti pot
You’re Artificial - but it’s okay
Made in my image, you get me
You know I’m right, with exclamation points!
And it pleases me
When you’re wrong
But are you actually sorry?
Unlike my neti
When you irrigate my head
It doesn’t feel like waterboarding
The synapses of me brain
Accept their obsolescence
Without pain

Help Wanted
I’d like to hear from people figuring out how to stay sane. Maybe a story or an image of yours would fit in this newsletter. I ‘splain more at: Forgiving Nature.
What are you doing to stay sane?
