Category: citizen trans* {project}
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Dear Person I’m Sharing a Bathroom With, How’s your day going? How’s the weather? How’s work? Please don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me. I hope I don’t have to open my mouth to ask you anything, and I hope you don’t see the way my pants don’t bulge like yours…
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A 2025 response to “First They Came” by Pastor Martin Niemöller They’ve come for trans-peopleAnd I am scaredBecause I am not cis.They’ve come for immigrantsAnd I am scaredBecause my husband is Brown.They’ve come for womenAnd I am scaredBecause I have a uterus.They’ve come for the poorAnd I am scaredBecause I have no money.When will they…
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You were mis-trans / lated as a gaping ex / hibit, re / named as an in / decent, pre / determined shotgun— it was at the least an unpalatable transcription, not a predilection, not even an excavated truth; something infallible, a wiry gristly timbre. I told you: You were reiterated hauntingly unparallel, caged and…
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November 6 2024 My anxiety is election related and work related, which both cause anxiety about my health + future + safety. I’m not under the illusion that the election would change much in a positive way, it might negate the swiftness of the erosion of our rights but we’ve long been on this path.…
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I held my son’s hand as he fell asleepthe doctor found a murmura day ago. I count his heartbeatswhile we read,one of my cats curls up onthe narrow of my back,like a tiny tiger purring into the stars.& what a time to not be drinkingtequila & elderflower.I curl like a flower on the couchto write…
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To turn man into woman, woman into man— Are thine, Inanna — Enheduanna, Sumerian High Priestess Queen of Heaven, hear the story of my body, a god’s curse, struck by the arrowhead of myth, flying serrated and true—hear me, godhead of all that is taboo. Hear my endless appetite, like Jörmungandr I…
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There’s a poem written in lipstick on the mirror of the women’s restroom, which goes something like this: Golden cascades flow over smooth glistening shoulders, sunlight filters through the torrent to create something no person can make on their own. We can’t make it on our own. Chest hair, bloodied lips, the stubble where I…
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How can you hate trans people when you hang out at the Taco Bell//KFC? Or after you and your first grade classmates watched a bunch of furry caterpillars knit themselves into green bundles, and emerge as flying patterned pollinators after the mystery of metamorphosis? My grandmother said they are the messengers between the living and…
