Category: citizen trans* {project}
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after Noah Baldino Halved, the body might resemble a geode, crystalline glisten after dirt. That is, of course, until it rots. A purple stone brought home to dry gray on the windowsill. On the train home I wonder, if I open myself, would yellow, white, all shades blue and red surprise me? What hides in…
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I wish I knew just how we got here but I had long ago lost hope. I’d been seeing the political arena play out in everyday street encounters. Those status-symbol oversized, overpriced gas-guzzling monstrocities of trucks sought to control both vehicular and ideological traffic by engaging in their own ticker tape parades, honking and screaming…
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my dad always wanted to be his dad but he wasn’t supposed to be his dad, who rummaged through scrap piles, exposing himself to unknown toxins that would spread throughout his body killing him halfway through his fifties my dad works nights as a glorified McAfee program for the Army my dad, though, was never…
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And just like that, I am Gregor Samsa waking up in the body of a bug. I am fourteen again, all big eyes and spindly legs and the ability to march in a line with the weight of the world on my shelled back. And just like that, I am Felix Hoenikker, too smart to…
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A week af er rump is elec ed, I s ar on es os erone. I go o an endocrinology appoin men and he doc or ells me o correc him if he misgenders me hen asks why I hink I need o go on es os erone. He asks me if my family has…
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“Thank you to all those good assassins who contributed to the death of my former self.” -John Patrick Shanley, Savage in Limbo My gender is a funeral And I’m holding a memorial service for my former self All the transgender fags The transsexual dykes The crossdressing queers And those of us too outrageous to fixate…
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it’s fascinating to watch the privileged masses flee from making life better where they are they simply pack up and go to where the work has already been done, living off the backs of oppressed peoples, never to lift a finger cry and cry some more about the amendments, the legislation, the discomfort. “it’s really…
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They say if you make it to 30, you’ve already succeeded. So many of us don’t survive. Don’t get to step into our skin. I think of us as nesting dolls in reverse. We begin small, and each layer gains new paint. It grows and grows and maybe we strip one back. Maybe when we…
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We are dying. We are dying and I don’t know why no one is saying that. We are dying like pigeons. We are dying like freight trains that kept running, wild off the side of the cliff and into the river. I read three posts today that encourage trans people to get our affairs in…
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Crawling through a sea of shattered glass on my hands and knees looking for intact crystals; finding intact crystals and putting another tally towards “survivors”; using the complete tally to count the loss. True professionals in the field of loss are familiar with the principles of negative tallies. We…