THEY DON’T KNOW I’M A GEMINI MOON
I keep forgetting it’s Leo season
I used to keep a log—Sun in Leo, Moon in Taurus—in my journals
I used to keep journals regularly
People love to say, What even is a sun sign?
And I say, well you know the sun?
And they say yes
But I don’t think they actually know
Today I look like a total fortune teller
I become frantic and naked often, looking for clothes
That will accurately represent me
Often it’s a silk scarf, a linen dress, huaraches
Other times it’s my triple XL HECHO EN MEXICO t-shirt
Paired with Air Forces and baggy jeans
Once in Berlin, a stupid boy was being read his chart
The girls around the table announced, Ooof, an Aries moon?
What even is a moon? is the question he asked
I was in the mood to make him look stupider—
Well, you know the moon, right? It’s in the sky?
Yeah, he chuckled
And you know, I continued
How the moon orbits the earth? And the earth orbits the sun?
Uhhhh
And you know there are more planets, and there are stars, and the stars become constellations?
The girls are laughing. The boy commits to his idiocy, while I commit to my domineering
My mother does not like that people think I’m aggressive
My cat watches me cross the room in only my boxers
My sisters don’t believe in brujeria, but when I visit home they ask,
Can you throw my cards?
I shuffle them, deal them out: the Moon, the Seven of Swords, Temperance
You’re gonna have a baby, I say
And they always do
People love to ask if I’ll have kids of my own
They think I’m a woman, they all do
juj e lepe was born and raised in Stockton, California. Their poems have been featured or are forthcoming in Pile Press, The Acentos Review, Poetry Northwest, and The Rumpus. juj is a poet, an educator, and an MFA candidate at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. You can find them by the nearest body of water.