Trolls: The gayest movie this year

trolls-movie-posterWhat does any romantic lesbian couple do on a Friday night? They go to see Dreamworks Trolls the day it comes out, obviously. So, we sat down in our seats, those huge leather seats that recline and have the foot rests and everything. Yes, be jealous. And we leaned back, Trolli gummy worms in hand, ready to watch the movie.

Fade to black. Cue rainbow lights and disco balls. Overlay club dance music. Enter overly excited trolls, complete with expertly styled hair and fuzzy leg warmers.

It was only 10 minutes into the opening of the movie and we felt like we were standing in the middle of a disco rave at a Gay club. Rainbow after rainbow appeared across the screen while the trolls sang out happy songs, their optimism making my eye twitch. I mean, this movie could not be more Gay.

And we loved it!

Let me back up for a second. So the whole premise of this movie is that these Trolls are chased away by the Bergens, these sad monsters who eat Trolls to feel happy. And let me tell you, the trolls are literally the happiest people possible, especially the main character, Poppy. They have mandatory hug time every hour on the hour. That leaves them with just enough time to sing and scrapbook between hugs. Oh, and did I mention the sparkles? Because they’re EVERYWHERE! insta4

I could just keep going. There were trolls covered in glitter and sparkles, reflecting light off them like little disco balls. Don’t forget the troll that literally shits cupcakes (see gif). Or, there’s that moment when Poppy and her troll friends turn into a rainbow wig to help a sad Bergen girl. And what song do they decide to sing? The I’m Coming Out song, complete with stellar dance moves, a jumpsuit and high platform shoes. Hello Drag Queens! Dreamworks couldn’t have been more subtle if they tried. There was no holding back the rainbows emanating from our theater last night.

It is no coincidence that Dreamworks chose to release this movie over election weekend. I mean, it’s a scary time to be a person in America right now, let alone a liberal female lesbian (insert impassioned disclaimer begging you to vote if you haven’t already). Racism, sexism, ableism is at an all time high right now. From Standing Rock and the pipeline to Muslims, illegal immigrants and homosexuals, every minority has been singled out and threatened.

But, as adults, we need to look down at those younger than us. What message are we sending them? And a movie like Trolls is telling our children that happiness hides inside us, and that even the meanest, grumpiest monsters have a spark of happiness hiding inside. They just need rainbows and sparkles to guide them.

Some extremists will poke holes in this, screaming the gay agenda. But no, this movie will not teach your kids how to be gay. It will teach your kids bravery, determination, friendship, working together. It will teach them that’s it’s okay to be a little different.

So with the election right around the corner, take just 90 minutes out of your day to see the Trolls movie. Show it to your friends, your kids, even your pets. Just think about what it means to accept. Maybe we really do need mandatory hug time–I mean, imagine Trump having to stop in the middle of his debate (and lurking behind Clinton) for hug time.

And if there really is a gay agenda, at least it’s filled with smiles and sparkles and rainbows. Sign me up.



The Good versus the Bad, “To Thee This World is Given”

25700185I received a copy of the novella, To Thee This World is Given, by Khel Milam to give an unbiased review. And let me say, I loved it!

Once I picked it up, I couldn’t put it down, easily reading it in one sitting. It takes place in a post-apocalyptic world. But before you flash to images of The Walking Dead or any slasher zombie movie, let me tell you that this novella is set far apart from them. Milam uses eloquent language to introduce us to an extremely desiccated world. A stark contrast. But this book is not about the zombies or the gore. It follows two nameless characters, a young girl and a man. We get a snapshot into their lives, and then they’re gone as quickly as they arrived. No backstory, just who they were in that moment.

The only encounter with zombies works to raise larger moral questions. When they come upon two children, the two discuss what’s left of them. The man sees the bad but the girl sees them as still living and in misery, they’re just “soulless maybe? Maybe that’s the whole point” (32). But just because they’re soulless doesn’t mean they don’t feel. Milam makes us view zombies as something more, as the people they used to be.

And the brief moment we spend with the young girl and man provides such a powerful insight into two different sides of a post apocalyptic world. The hope and the hopeless, converging, if only for a second.


a fire burns beneath my feet
forming black calluses
flakes blowing behind
as I move forward
slowly morphing
into ash



I catch a scent
in the breeze
just a short

and it feels
like home

it feels
like safety

Between Pages

I live my life like a novel
every bad thing is my battle
my personal growth
every good memory
is like a Hallmark movie

I roll between the pages
knowing my future,
lies between the spines
of these musty pages

I live my life like a novel
waiting for the final moment,
my happy ending.


a writer dedicates themselves
to the love of language
the written word
learning the way words flow
parts of speech
working together
falling into just the right place
and the period ends right where
the next thought begins

a poet is moved
by passion
the flow
going against the grain
and the power, oh, how great it feels
to break the rules
forgetting to end the sentence
or Changing rules,
capitalization tossed Out the window

a poet masters
the language
the feelings
the moments
the words

I Let it Win

the days circled around me
a lump hidden under the plateaus
and canyons of sheets
puffy waterfalls cascading
down the sides as it pitched
it’s tent, taking his shoes
off, home warming
parties blasting through
the pitch black night
and his flag dug deep
into the dry dirt
and I let him win.

he’s here to stay.

The Artist

let me paint a picture for you
of the colors and lines
dancing across the page
nonsense ink blotches
and tangled designs
masking the face
that lies beneath

Moody Moods

When the sadness settles over me
my hand grasps the pen
violently scraping holes
digging for help
the truth
and my fingernails collect
the gritty dirt
as the ink blotches,
smudging illegible words


the years take their claim
rings spiral around a tree trunk
layers of dust settle on worn china
an owner-less leash hangs by the door
forgotten secrets and hidden treasures
the ticking of a clock
as they come, they move
towards extinction