I fished out a pair of your underpants from behind the washer. A spider clung to the band. I set him free. What to do

CHRIST without HRT becomes CIS. But Christ is spelled with HRT, and thus, Christ is not cis. Ergo: Christ was trans.

The difference between secret and hidden.Let’s start with intentSecret is on purposeHidden may be squirreled awayBut often it is erasurelike the gaps in records that

I was born from a gossip spittle /My diet consists of eating trees / Flesh /And undoing advancements /I am a newer Medusa /Born with

I am sinking, and there is a watch party of women who call themselvesmy kin placing bets on how good I’ll look at the bottom,

I watch Joyce fail to light a cigarette against the wind. Little sparks erupting then disappearing in an instant like dying fireflies kept in a

a fever dream or hallucination of a woman young sliding down ward in to dark ness until she hits awakens just as they pull her

The writer, aware that the telling of certain stories in the third person might, by another writer, be handled effectively as neat confessionals, sometimes laments.

August 15, 1999: Densely were the belongings contained within Pauline’s cramped room. The shelves were stacked with the writings of such authors as Dworkin, Genet,

Don’t fuck with meI’ve got nineteen teeth(and they’re not even mine) I’ve got slapstickfeeling and rippedback- I’ve got a rhythmof sicknessand twodead cats. War I

I miss your structure, your repeating lineHave you left me forever? Will I runLike a wild dog on fleet feet, yellow eyesTerror-filled, intelligent, all-knowing? Longing

Consciousness slips into my dreamsand imperceptibly awakes mebut the night leaves a message for meas I venture into daylight.My hand prods for a black coverednotebook.

tell me, how does one see pastthe incumbent colossus of dreadreflected on the lens of the camera,blackened with remembrance of the present,its thick and deceitful

So that the Earthian skies are simply more than distance away from this grounded body, I feel the need to have my physical form consumed

in a far away time there is a mother, a wife, a daughter. beside her a son, a hero, a warrior. in some distant place

I woke up this morning with a statuelying on my chest. Maybe it was one of the Roosevelts,or just a president, someone like that,he had

Lifting my head above a wall to peek at a Drive In Movie, I grab a wire, discovering pain in my fist. As I crawl

The sleek white vans started to appear after 2 a.m., their bright hoods flashing like teeth under the string of streetlights. The whir of the

There is no need to hide my cock,to compress it, regret it, to tie it upin a knot—to sleep in a bed too small,to wear

ARACHNID A Naiad ran an acaciaranch in a candid cardiacad. An anarchic arch-cad, Ihid rind in hard china chain.Acid rain char’d cicada. I add: nadir

I died in a dream last night but roseagain when I rose again, I guess – Irose at dawn as usual, light rarelylets me sleep,

She had been haunted like this in ceaseless cycles. Her body hadn’t been hers for a while. But the thought of disassembling, fiber and atom

You were born into chaos before it became your shadow. You learned that your first heartbreak didn’t unequivocally break you, it just prepared you for