bad eggs and ham

bad eggs and ham

by Jen B.


itty bitty piggies

march into markets

pigs washed in pink

but they’re blue, and they flaunt it.

where are the pigs

for the lives that matter?

for toronto’s village?

for drag balls’ batters?

pigs have teeth

for the sake of a state

and its grip on the peoples

crushed by the weight

of histories drenched

in blood, blood, blood.

our families in the fight

still struggle in the flood.

why let pigs

run amok in our temples?

ancient desecration

in modern assembles.

am i a bad egg

cause i don’t want pork

served silver spooned,

red knifed, rainbow forked?

this hog is rotting

lords of the flies

buzzing about

drowning out cries

of resistance, truth,

dignity, freedom.

pigs could invert

carrie’s prom queendom;

piggies in crowns

and human-blood gowns

wave to the crowd

as they burn all around.


am i a bad egg

cause i don’t want ham

shoved down our throats

like battering rams?

do you want applause

for hogs in drag wigs

like nothing’s amiss?

as if there aren’t pigs

on wet’suwet’en lands

mounting raids?

have you forgotten

why mounties were made?

have you forgotten

our siblings, sisters, brothers?

or the bricks thrown

by our gay foremothers?

when pigs kicked down

stonewall’s door

our people rallied under:


shout it out hoarse

until all are free

just like sylvia

on christopher street ’73,

for the people,

the people,

the people:


“The people that are trying to do something

for all of us,

and not men and women

that belong to a white middle class club!

And that’s what you all belong to!

Revolution now!

Gay… gay power.

Louder, gay power!”


gay power,

gay power,

gays crumbled to powder.

gays on the streets,

gays locked in towers.

gays in the ground,

or spread about as ash;

we are still fighting,

the storm has not passed.


we are the riot,

we need no gear.

there is no pride

when innocents fear.

i’ve had my fill

of ham, ham, ham;

i utterly loathe it,


if we’re bad eggs

then we’ll bring the sulfur;

we won’t stand idle

while others suffer.

we will not crack

for any egg poacher;

we’re hungry for justice

and justice is kosher.