Category: citizen trans* {project}


  • In Between

    You call me she They look around confused Looking for her You call me he They look around confused Have they met him before? Will you be mad to know You’ll always assume wrong? Will you feel lied to? Should I be afraid? If masculinity is armor Why do I feel less safe? You wouldn’t…

  • Unwrongful Identity

    Is it so wrong to live as myself? To breathe without regret To love without threat. Why? It is your own shortsightedness that is to blame, That your frame of mind is one of resolve in pursuit of a false righteousness. If empathy is such a stress If it causes you duress, To see a…

  • untitled

    Transition now. Or later. transition while you’re alive and free. thousand born today – cousins: Transition now forever!

  • I’m trans, so

    people will always want me dead that’s why I get myself the good coffee dark rich people will always want me dead that’s why I keep my humanity in notebooks my tarot reshuffled telling me where I’m going next (outside to smoke) people will always want me dead that’s why I give myself the good…

  • Andromethian

    I can’t quit my chained maidenWho pliés around the welkinFrom stone to stone, and craterTo crater, hypergolic. She spinsAnd laughs, I swell with love. I callHer a reminicantagonist, a futurephiliacBut as she always does, she floatsAhead. Skipping, stone to stone,Alpheratz towards Canis and his son.She knows what will come next,She’s lived it before. This is…

  • Florida 101

    (for: the Senator) Florida fires are usually arson / crack pipes burning cypress trees / bringing a Senator down to her wooden knees / Charred remains stand like a chimney / Once a ruler, now twenty feet and barren, a mother to debris / The Florida woman  / has lightning  / on her hands…/ She…

  • What To Do Next

    Well, the world is ending as it did. But before gun barrels shove into mouths where only popsicles should go- someone needs to teach the abandoned puppy how to walk on a leash, someone needs to empty the dishwasher, pick up the Big Gulp lids from the turtle spawning grounds, rub sunscreen on the wiggling…

  • A Candle in the Darkness

    Yesterday I drove my son back homewithout crying, long past tears, knowingsoon I’ll leave, no more weekend sharedcustody, in attempt to flee draconian lawsdevised to erase and replace me with masksI wore but never wanted. He doesn’t knowwhy I jump at every knock shatteringsilence, but my edginess seeps into himand he knows it’s not right.…

  • thirty-two repetitions

    i didn’t worry for myself but for my mother who took each morning bus and breathed the same air that housed the voice of the man who harassed her for the coworker who took each workday like a prescription for the man i knew in college who shared his younger sister’s artwork and wondered aloud…