Page 175 of The Black Flamingo


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long before this moment,

the first people were black

and queerness predates its modern meaning.

Queerness predates its derogatory meaning.

Queerness predates colonialism

and Christianity.

Queerness predates any hate attached to it.

I call myself black.

I call myself queer.

I call myself beautiful.

I call myself eternal.

I call myself iconic.

I call myself futuristic.

And you”—I point to Jack—“can call me later.”

I get a massive laugh from the audience.

Jack folds his arms, shrinking in his seat.

I spread my arms

in a gesture to the whole audience:

“You can call me

The Black Flamingo.

I’m going to give you some advice.

I’m going to tell you five things not to say

when chatting up a black flamingo:

Number one: ‘Can I touch your feathers?’

Number two: ‘Is it true what they say about

the size of your wings?’”

The audience laughs again, even louder

this time. I continue, feeling emboldened.

“Number three: ‘I usually prefer pink but . . .’

Number four: ‘I really love the contrast