trans, nerd.


December 2013

About Even

Darkness barking, baying

The door must hold, and fast.


Ancient hands are praying

The fire will burn, and last.


No one knows on whose side the ghosts will fall

Whether tearing down or holding up the wall,

But when they start

                We’ll start the war

Only they’ll know what they’re fighting for,

A ruin on a desolate moor,

We came to nought.


This fight’s a draw.


Pine and Cloth

This empty table

                May remain so awhile.

There is nothing to be bought,

Nor to be brought.

Reservations are still held,

                Honoured by one,

                Discussed by others,

                Defended by parents,

                Understood by brothers.

Let the dust settle

                While we settle the bill

                For the empty table

                Where we have eaten our fill

                And remain sat, still.

A Thousand Yards

Six weeks of silence,

Darkness, fear and loathing,

Six weeks of hiding,

Shadow, feeling broken.

Licked wounds

Lady-in-waiting afraid.

Six weeks of yearning,

Pin-sharp mid-distance stare,

Six weeks of learning.

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