Category: citizen trans* {project}
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A love letter to American zillennials before we were old enough to strapon our most comfortable shoes and standin line at the polls, we were old enoughto cut george bush’s face out of our scholastic readers and colorall over it with school-issued crayolas,to tape it to the corner of our desksand sit down on it—kiss my…
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I honestly thought we had won.In March 2016, the North Carolina legislaturepassed a bill banning transgender people from public bathrooms.The reaction was immediate. And angry.College sports teams, corporations,musicians, conventions and state governments boycotted them.And on May 9th, 2016,the Attorney General of the United States announcedfor the first time everthey would not allow discrimination against trans…
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The birds and the bees and the invisible womanthe nectar so sweet, the musings saccharine, butmy baby’s shoulders slumped in the kitchen,and I am crying but there are no words,she is taking my glasses off my face,cleaning them on her t-shirt, and I am drivingthe wrong way to work, the sun is rising,and my friends…
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there will be no diamonds. not in this roughwhere my fingers have callusesand these cracked nails hold hot coalsin the silence of the wood.where we stumble in our quiet withthe golden glimmer of our soulsin thin threads, stuffed carefullyinto our hidden pockets.tangling, yes,in the backdoors of these dreamsbut still there nonetheless.and there will be no…
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On the phone with a trans elder. Maybe she’d hate being called that. She is, though, old and monied and cynical. They’d call her a “battle-axe” back home. Tough broad. California accent. She works in Hollywood, kind of, but primarily in trans healthcare, demystifying it for medical researchers at universities I’d never set foot in.…
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i get off the airplane at the connecting airport, and thefirst thing i see out the jetbridge is a tv with its silentbabbling news anchor, below him a big banner:do transgender people have a right to healthcare? when i came out to my butch lesbian mother all those yearsago, me all of fifteen and her holding…
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passing strangers on the streetI am looking now, for eyesto reflect my mourning peering into hearts for the familial taste of fear swept to the corners, griefburied like shrapnel tell me the names of your loves, the oneswhose terror has split open who is left swimming the deepest hue—have you called them yet? in a passing glance we must discern what’s lodged and where are we flying the…