At Tangled

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

• At Tangled
• Rob Colgate (bio)

We are about to host our first in-person event at the galleryin three years. Sam, Sachin, and I spend two hours tryingthe owl-shaped camera that will track whoever is the speakerand spotlight them on the synchronous livestream event.Rumi and Jessie are over in the corner of the office figuring outwhat food to order. After a bit, they settle on sushi.

But I’m vegan, Alice has a feeding tube, Kevin can’t lift sushi,Alex is severely allergic to soy (can’t even be in the gallery),and then we need a side of fries just in case Leah comes outsince she has ARFID—it’s all possible, just takes a bit of trying.Then, when we are prescreening the films before the event,we realize we need content warnings. I lean against the big speaker

noting the time stamps of the triggers, the moments when the speakerin the film swears loudly, and I imagine I am blissfully eating sushiso I don’t get triggered myself. Soon people arrive, the eventtalk begins, everyone in chairs or flopped on cushions on the galleryfloor. Elaine shows up and says everybody who wants can try onthe leopard-print masks that she keeps in a bag that hangs out

on the back of her power chair. Then the films start and right outof the gate it’s naked bodies and hospital echoes, the ASL speakers [End Page 128] and low-vision folks alike gaping at the images and audio, tryingto follow the intricate plot, and then the food arrives late, the sushion crip time, and Rumi and Jessie set it up in the back of the gallery.I’m playing access doula, monitoring the chat on the Zoom event

that blows up when the doctor transplants the organ. Eventuallythe film ends. Everybody applauds in ASL so the sensory out-put isn’t overwhelming, then shuffles to the back of the galleryfor food. You know if the transplanted organ fails—Helen speaksto me earnestly, wonder in her voice—the patient can sue. Shewidens her eyes. Sue who? The dead donor? Go try it!

We go on, discuss transplantation’s disability implications, tryingout theories until the guests and interpreters have left the event.We ordered too much, so I claim an untouched tray of sushias I say bye. Dan and I walk towards home together, hashing outthe new moon’s astrological impact. We never really speakmuch at work, but now we’re laughing, even outside of the gallery

after the event. Before we part, he turns to me, balancing sushi:Hey, let me know if you ever need anything, ok? I’m trying outhaving needs now, my gallery filled with beloved guest speakers. [End Page 129]

Rob Colgate

Rob Colgate (he/she/they) is a disabled, bakla, Filipino-American poet from Evanston, Illinois. He holds an MFA in poetry from the University of Texas at Austin, edits for POETRY magazine as a reader, and is poet-in-residence at Tangled Art + Disability.

Copyright © 2024 The University of the South ...