Category: citizen trans* {project}
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Over the past few weeks, I watched on TV, some exciting T20 cricket matches. Besides the riveting cricket, what was on show was a troupe of dancing girls who performed at all the matches. Scantily dressed, they gyrated and went through provocative motions, from platforms, to the glee of spectators. Not to conceal their real…
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Today? I put down the character shoes,the taps, slip soft—socks onto bare feet. I lay on the ground,because my bed is too soft,and its breathing… The floor cradles me in its boards,and splinters acupuncture;cold needles through my hoodie and sweatpants. I curl into a ball.The wood creaks with my joints. Tomorrow? I will stand in…
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I used to think Billy was kindto be kind that his mother raisedhim right but I think maybe he just gotleft behind learned to hate a little latemy kind yeah “my kind” and “his kind”I stayed nice we played beyblades and I gotleft behind women’s work and family valuesmy kind he hummed and tapped nirvana…
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For 2 weeks, you move into my little house, a trialwe fight a little about your other lovers quietly walk to visit Cletus, the neighbor’s calfwho rejects our apple and gnaws desperate at the fence post—pica we worry for the country,a flurry of horrors make luxurious food stamp mealscurried legumes, caramelized alliums it snows twice,…
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Shhh – don’t look – shhh, don’t it’s hithit hit hit youHitler and he hasn’t had a breakbreak break breakfastI mean take a break kid – go faster –quick he’s on your heels forfor for everi mean fortitudei mean formulai mean run.Run run run run runrun runta runt – it’s you – get it?see? see?…
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In the way that I speak,the way that I walk,this sense of otherness – a presence.One inescapable, one unyielding,one that only if I wish to dareI might have to stop, find its essence. This body was not made with me in mind,I’m made of a mother’s flesh,a heart full of other’s thorns.The wounds I earn…
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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 …
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You don’t know my name, but I know yours.My chosen family uncle calls you “The Tangerine Terrorist.” But I call you “The Orange Cheeto in Charge.” I know your story.Brazen, riding full throttle through life with violence on your mind. Baked and brandished with a vengeance,Poison must run through your veins, for you have existed…
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The words fly at meBullets from the gun of the mouth of people who know no better Sir I felt scrape my cheekA passing shotIntent on damage He said I didn’t at first sense an exit woundThe blood trickled down my bellyWarm from violence Oh, it’s his Pointing at meAn assassination attempt of who I…
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I see a newly-painted crosswalkcovered in color-arranged chalkto mimic the aura of what it once was: a rainbow crosswalk leading to the very building where 49 soulsleft bodies behinddripping blood on the dance floor. victims of hate-driven gun violenceno reasonable resolutionsin the only country where these events are in one ear out the other I…