Category: citizen trans* {project}
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Being queer is rather… Strange. You see, you get stuck in a bubble, constantly being around others like you. You get so comfortable with yourself, you shout it from the rooftops… Until that bubble is burst, and you remember: People will hate you for just being yourself. They batter you into yourself, what was once…
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in the presence of my home i don’t guide many visitors mostly because as lonely as i am i like my peace & in dark cold nights i am found tossing & turning but what could create the oceans i could swim only brings weak streams i am tired of these soulless no passion strangers…
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my gender feels like the secret code to the hottest club in town like I’m at the house show slash gay wedding slash top surgery fundraiser getting a stick n poke next to a laundry machine and man what did you expect when you moved to the city I’ve discovered the secret back room behind…
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Watching the shadows shift all day,skinnying & lopingacross the parking lot until they switch & shortensquat gestural murmurings into dark.He left another note for me in my underwear drawer.Melted candle wax on the coffee table,water all over the bathroom floor,Jumpscare at the dicks drying on the sink.Slurry of unread texts.Demanding noise just beyond our touch,wanting…
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and it reads: in this house, we believe… trans women are women. all cops are bastards. john hinckley junior did nothing wrong. kurt cobain was trans. all landlords are liars. devine is still the filthiest person alive. in this house, we say faggot and tranny and we graffiti girldicks on cop cars. and yes, astrology…
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When they kill me in the coming years,please bury my head in the backyardof that house in Wood Hollow, to restin the shadow of the tire swing, to sinkinto the fire pit pressed upon the forest. I want to watch that everchanging earth.Even as it dries in the coming droughtand floods in the lingering hurricane,I know…
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I turn on the news to start my dayAn asteroid they say is coming our wayTo turn our homes into piles of clay I ask my dad if he’s feeling scaredbut he just says he doesn’t care “I can’t wait to see it take down Mr. Brown”he says without a single frownI say “But what about me?…
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I always thought that bonfire night was to celebrate how a Guy tried to burn down parliament.I learnt later in life we were celebrating that he was caught.And it’s kinda funny to me to walk the streets of my city and pass where he was born.I guess the only way the house of white people…
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There was a man whose job it wasto log the cost of burning a sodomite to death.So many pesos for the lumber, so many reales for rope,so much for leather gloves and flint.He formed the numbers carefully,judicious with quill on vellum,massaged cramped fingers and shifted his seat,finally walked home. There were hundreds,thousands of this somebody…
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~based on a dream Trump was shanghaied by a cartoon fiend who resembled Charlie Chan in the flicker of silent films dramatic organ caterwauls from the pit Fu Manchu moustache waxed to a fine sheen John Lennon glasses perched on a spread-out nose masked by aquamarine séance ectoplasm …