Emma Jordan-Simpson

O’Shae Sibley vogued. Laughed. 
Felt the kind of joy with friends
that leads one to dance, dance, dance. 

We can have a world - 
this one right here - 
where it is the norm 
for gay people to dance 
every time they felt the spirit 
moving in their hearts, we keep praying. 

But the world we have, right here,
right now - is the one where having joy
can lead to death.

Seems like a hateful reversal.
Joy leading to death?
That’s hell on earth, seems to me.

Yet - it wasn’t Sibley’s joy
that killed him.
No, the murderer was hate 
taught to a 17-year old 
carrying a knife. 

This hate fuels an irrational 
bothered-ness about the very sight 
of what should be normal - 
the Gay-est, most joy-full-est joy
expressed by someone
whose joy led them to do 
what joy is supposed
to do in a world 
that wasn’t hell on earth:
Dance.

A sound was heard in Ramah
weeping, weeping, weeping.

May a sound be heard in Brooklyn,
dancing, dancing, dancing,
refusing to stop dancing. 

O’Shae deserved a world 
where he could dance with joy
anytime and anyplace.