By E Kerr

ICD-10 F43.1


you see
through me
like an X-ray

too much

ionizing radiation can
make a person

Nuclear Motherland

my mother will always be
a mother, even if she’s not

my mother by choice; I am
native to her science, formed

in matrical manners, meant to be,
and my mother mumbled

mine, claimed maternal
instinct would manifest eventually.

but I will never be a mother.

modify my autonomy, mold
my ions into isotopic mass, am I

bound to be explosive, bound
to be my mother? I am

experimenting with this matter.

The Gray Rock Method

She demands an answer—she wants
to hear me confess, fall
to my knees and beg for her

pardon, regardless of if I didn’t
tell anyone—she hisses liar and I
turn to stone. I know she feels

like Medusa among my stoic
presence, powerful with just
a glance in my direction. Cursed,

this form of petrification
would keep me safe if she
tried to carve me out—stone by

bone—whittled down to small
malleable pieces, that she would try
and mold into remnants of a daughter.

Elias Kerr (they/he) is a transmasculine poet who has been published in Esprit, Evening Street Review, The Hollins Critic, and Rappahannock Review. Kerr is a recipient of the inaugural 2022 Stemmler/Dennis LGBT& Award. Their poetry focuses on how the literary arts can be used to explore and represent identity. Kerr studies occupational therapy with double minors in English and creative writing at The University of
Scranton. They write using the pen name E Kerr.


One thought on “ICD-10 F43.1 and Other Poems

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s