Baddie One Shoe

by Natalie Meisner

You know that voice in your head that cuts through it? Does the ill-advised thing in the name of hard won fun? The friend who finishes the bottle with you that needs finishing, stays till closing, holds your hair out of the way if needed? The Tough bitch who rescues you in a broken down car.  The dyke who takes a punch. The queer who takes down the hypocrite, speaks truth to power, let the chips fall where they may? The working class kid who sees the damned un-level playing field and plays anyway? Takes one for the team? Sets the score card on fire and warms her hands over the glow? Her name is BADDIE ONE SHOE … she’s been here all along as you got on with life, did the work things, made a nest and had a family… she’s bided her time and now she wants out.

SKU: 9781927823965 Category:

$19.95 CAD

Additional information

Weight .24 kg
Dimensions 9 × 6 × .375 in
Page Count



Soft Cover with flaps

Year Published


Natalie Meisner

Natalie Meisner is a poet and playwright from the Mi’kma’ki /South Shore of Nova Scotia and Calgary/ Mohkinstsis 5th Poet Laureate. She combines survivor comedy with hopepunk in the service of social change. Baddie One Shoe (2019) is her book of odes to renegade women. Legislating Love: The Everett Klippert Story is a stage play based on the true story of the beloved Calgary bus driver whose plight spurred the decriminalization of homosexuality. Speed Dating for Sperm Donors  is a  comedy for the stage based on her family’s story, and was a  hit at Neptune and Lunchbox Theatre.  Double Pregnant: Two Lesbians Make a Family topped non-fiction lists and My Mommy, My Mama My Brother & Me is her children’s book about a two-mom biracial family finding community. She is a wife, mom to two great boys and a Full Professor at Mount Royal University in Calgary, Alberta.

Sitting in the Tate Modern

(For Baddie Kahlo)

Sitting in the Tate Modern
thinking of your hands hips & ribs
the pins in them
How the metal must ache even in desire
& ochre is color fused with pain

However thoughts flew through the air then
what love was to you or desire
to a body that spent so much time
on her back

& when you got up colours flew in the
demanding sexual heel stamp of the dance

When you took up the bodies all the bodies your own & others
stared death down & drank & fought & fucked till dawn,
pins & metal & failing body bedamned

How hot you danced
fucked him & her with mind & body
with all you had
kicking through the pain in your body
bottoms up – dancing till dawn drinking them all under the table.
Still the obit wants to read:
Wife of the Great One.  

& I think as I sit here in the Tate Modern
of your hands how they flew
of your brow knit in gorgeous righteous rage
the angle of your elbow as you tossed back the shot.
& your hands
spliced & diced as words fly though the ether
we call it text when there is none
futures forged sutures burst so easily
deleted just as
these fragments are
what can they teach us
future civilizations
will find no fossils of love & desire
bouncing triple dots
… hang, think then
hit delete

We look for footing the best opening
draft & redraft the opening
we begin
we begin