4:21pm June 18, 2014

Writing out Infinity: Autistic Pride

i.

they tell you

to not write of infinity

in poetry, that

the abstract has no place

in the concrete.

——

I will carve out

the abstract infinity

in the concrete,

the looping symbol

with its soft curves

chipped against

sensory-overloading

hard and textured concrete.

——

I will paint it rainbow.

——

ii.

they tell you

to save the infinity symbol

for math, for things

that matter, practical life skills.

——

(some thought I was stupid

for not being able to do math

and drawing all over the papers:

not life skills, they said.

what if I had drawn

the infinity symbol

for neurodiversity

colored it rainbow

and turned infinity sideways?)

——

iii.

I am Autistic

we are part of neurodiversity

——

iv.

the world can be too

fluorescent bright and loud

and wrought with sensory overload

——

the world can be too

conversational and sometimes

communication goes haywire

——

but we do so many things.

——

we can raise our hands and

let the movements begin,

spiraling up and down

and sideways

——

we can pace

with a certain intensity

treading circles in the floor

(I always thought I was

walking in figure eights

but now I wonder

if I was walking in

infinity symbols)

——

we can echo and script

and paraphrase Shakespeare’s

Julius Caesar to get each other’s

attention

——

we share information

about our focused topics

it’s not talking about ourselves

it’s called sharing

and every day

is a learning experience

——

we are Autistic.

——

v.

a last concept

that is too abstract for poetry,

they said:

Pride.

~*~

-Paige Mead, 2014-

for Autistic Pride Day