Category: citizen trans* {project}
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Trans lives matter despite what they say going back into the closet can’t be the only way I loathe darkness now that I know light my friends huddle in fear my family mark their calendars a man anointed to serve my country nazi salutes a want to be dictator a friend said that might end…
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I’ve seen you singing in the floor of the train car. The screeching of the tracks, background singers. Nobody else knows it’s the rest of the sky down there. I try and count the stars but people keep treading over them. A light dusting, it seems to accompany every galaxy. But it wasn’t the dirt…
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And we were popular for a little while. As muses. As specimens. As celluloid and dreams. Maybe Warhola saw a little of himself in us, with his dumb blonde twink toupe and his ancestors from one of the bad parts of Eastern Europe that no one wants to remember. The same forgotten language, по-нашому, in…
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“It could have been a lot of stuff but it just wasn’t us / The very thought of how you operate, I’m filled up with disgust / I live and die for the cause, nail me to the cross / Take your pity off, maybe listen up (Let go)” –Bladee, “UNDERSTATEMENT” (SPIDERR) Existing as…
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My alarm blares with some song I picked when I was thirteen. I haven’t bothered to change it. I don’t open my eyes because that would mean another day has started. Eventually, and reluctantly, I untangle the mess of sheets and limbs and shut off the music. I scan…
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i don’t write my poems to be political but my body inherits policy when my brain boils over onto superheated sidewalk, or my skin sloughs off into knee-deep seawater, we all know who to blame i remade myself in 2017 chalk-scrawling my new name on the concrete thinking it might be enough and when i…
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in early evening black through which my pre-sleep spliff smoke sexually confuses adolescent lightningflies, as those restless poets ascend from the basement for mealtime, i: wonder what wasps do at night, wonder how long’s it gonna take two ants to scrap this bumblebee’s broken body for parts, i: …
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Cela Xiè 没日 Post-Election Twilight 再 When we came outside, 活 nothing was left of sunset. 四 I had wanted the blood, 年 the insurrection of the clouds. 迁 But above, only egrets. 华 I saw the morgue. Translation: 没日 若忍四年，迁华。 Drowning Sun If I have to live four more…
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The morning after, life went on as normal, yet the air was polluted with apprehension and clouds made of tears choked our lungs like vines. My heart still beat to its little drum, but my mind exploded into chaotic noise instantly drowning out the steadiness and transforming into ear-splitting screeches: “What comes next?” “Will I…