some poems

some poems



there’s a thin tall tower
in Atlantis sunk
with a bell in the window
high below.

there’s a fat stringy cobweb
like the blood I’ve drunk
from the flesh of my lip
where the scarring grew.

let me go down,
let me be pulled
down, high down,

vertigo underwater.
I’ll fill bubbles with my screams
and pop them all by clapping my hands
merrily, merrily,
all the sunken horses and the sunken weeds.

think of all the drowning people
they lived in the water long before they drowned,
skeletons inside them long before they were dead,
I wish I could have told them

‘I do not feel real, I am not really here.’
‘I’m a ghost punched through with the dry air of land.’
‘please, save me.’

there’s a bell in the window
in Atlantis drowned
and it rings in my ears
as I walk in the towns
deep above, let me go, –

let me go down,
let me be pulled
down, high down,

I do not want to be here any more.



[ ]   M

[ ]   F

[ ]   ‘Unspecified’
(thanks. that’s a cop-out, but -)

[ ]   none of your business, that’s what

[ ]   my gender is not in paperwork, and
my gender is not in clothes;
and it’s not in my body or flesh where you keep on
insisting a gender’s imposed.

[ ]   it’s a twinge in my bones.
every time my fingerbones or kneebones click together.
there you go, that’s an affirmation of my gender for you.

[ ]   give me a break

[ ]   u kno when u leave a glass on a table
and when u pick it up again there’s a ring of
condensation there,
that’s my gender –
cool wet table ring from a glass of ice tea.

[ ]   i had a gender once but then
i accidentally left it in the pocket of my jeans
and it went through the wash
and now all that’s left is a wad of fluff.
it’s gummed up my fucking washing machine, this is a pain in the ass to fix.

[ ]   i Am i Am i Am.

[ ]   you know how cold has a smell
how you can wake up and the
zipper-tang of new winter is somehow
in the air
hush up for a while and just –
my gender is the taste of zips in the air on a winter morning.

[ ]   ‘other’

[ ]  as real as yours! as valid!
i’m as real as you! as valid!
my personhood is not contingent
on my fitting your ideas
of what i’m supposed to be.

[ ]   i suppose you’re expecting me to tell you
that the loch ness monster’s real too.
real and true.

[ ]   guess what

[ ]   everyone’s gender is fake anyhow.
get off your high horse
come sit in the sand.
why does it bother you
when i say
i am not one thing nor yet the other?
give your high horse some fucking oats.

[ ]   Not One Thing Nor Yet The Other.

[ ]   unsmotherable

[ ]   nobody’s daughter and nobody’s son
and still i am,
i am

[ ]   say goodbye to your precious binary, i say, and i
launch several thousand fireworks into it,
blowing it into tiny ashes, smudges,
as the sky shudders into a riot of pattering glitter
(and i walk into the explosion looking
cooler than any special effects that
you can imagine).

[ ]   we Are


felix felicis

you know when you’re outside and
it’s evening and it’s summer or
late spring perhaps or early autumn,

one of those times when the evening feels
open, and it’s still light out, still
there is still light,

the sunset flashing muted gold
creasing in the corners of your eyes.
the air is cool, winding up at long last around you
the warm vestiges of the purple day.

when i risk it, and imagine
days and months and years to come,
all my hopes have you and me
breathing the same air

and looking back, it catches in my throat, that
i am so impossibly lucky
to have spent all of these days with you.

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