I Am No Masculinity

On the outskirts of a group of strong men,
Men of the borders and edges,
Razors of knives and of the land, unfazed
Since changeless, all changeless
As expressions of becoming,
Whose even speech lilts no lines,
But expresses words, indicatives that indicate,
As if 'here' were (and neither a subjunctive,
This indexical were that speaks of no modalities
And only for itself) -- but besides this discursion,
This ‘I’ who becomes becoming of discursion,
Who is not their excursion and who constantly smoothes
And cleans, cutting himself on cheeks
That dull the razor, feeling also over-subtle,
Overripe and dull, I would like to notice that they
Are the elimination of music, of every modulation
That will not speak, so that their music too
Is the uninhabitable and denizen-less ‘here’
Where “I am”, and ‘I’ never belongs.