Category: citizen trans* {project}
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People argue each time I name my favorite flower. I am asked why? I am told it is a weed. I say, “I know, a weed that flowers.” My only defense, how similar my answer is to what they would have chosen. I do not answer the why. I do not dare tell them that…
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post-chimera/ the testosterone cursed effemanance/ : assumed girlish in nature?/ trans-duced/ : the best parts of him/ sans- semen/ the vestigial masculine psycho-logically feminine /yearning to trans-cend the peripheral gaze of disgust/ & offense /post-trans-phobia/ : the bruises blossomed /to stigma caked with blood /soon hardened to sub-terranean…
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dear friend, the witching hour seems to be upon usmonstersdemons evenappear to walk the earthI look to the clock but it’s not even half past10 a.m. I turn on the TVmore devils greet megrotesquely toothy grins spread across their facesquite happy with their quick workas temples burn and the people hunger,eaten away by manufactured famine…
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In a picture of my soul, there is space to workOut not only what I am but what I might be if I wereNeither as daring nor as wounded As anyone who knows who they are could ever be:My presence accepted because consistent.I long to disappear into the world of the really living. There will…
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directly across from the entranceof the Heritage Foundation:thank you for your service,for reminding the conservativeswe are out & proud—we are not going back without a fight. I hope when they see youdancing on your poleIt burns their retinas. I hope when they see youit frustrates them—hurts their tender dispositions. I hope when they see youthey…
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When I went in I was stiff and nervous.Everything looked exactly as it did on TV.Everyone was so attractiveat the Grey’s Anatomy Hospital.Everyone had such compelling livesat the Grey’s Anatomy Hospital.The Psychiatrist who signed off on my surgerywas sleeping withthe surgeon who did my consultation.They bonded during an episode a few weeks earlierwhere they performed…
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Trans men live childhoods and adolescents with a rage flowing through their bodies: the world doesn’t match up to their gender. They don dresses, but don’t like them. They don lipstick, but don’t feel it fits. The mascara a girlfriend splays onto their eyebrows feels unholy. Middle school dances are crushingly awkward. How are we…
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October is a weird month for a haircut, a weird month to dye your now-stubble-hair, half-pinkhalf-black, likely an ode to childhood vampires, the month of monsters mashing and smashing,after, I wore a hood to my classes for days, ex-boyfriend’s mom hugged me, she heard the news,my ex was always a momma’s boy, I shrunk under…
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sometimes, the quarter moon lookslike a big grin carved into the nightbut tonight, it feels morelike gritted teeth and prayerssaid with white knuckles the first fireflies i’ve seenthis year wink in and out, sendingmessages i can’t translate intoenglish that still feel like a cooltowel settling over my shouldersthe way my mom would tuck onearound me…
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there will be no policiesand no apologies—nothing to show but an increment,all platitudes and pretend. I tire of marching.I want to lie down in the openfield of the stars and let the sky fall down atop me. I want to luxuriate in musk,human bodies, sweat and exertiononly in joy, in knowingevery one of us is alive…