trans, nerd.


July 2015

Birthday Season (the day before)

I’ll be forgotten when I die,
A truth with which I’m fine;
A generation down the line,
There’ll be nothing which is mine,
I really do not mind but
I’m forgotten yet alive.


No More Biscuits

Take my job, drag it on,
Injury, insult, cap it all,
Teach non-replacement,
Slap it on!
Cold hearts rest easy, it seems.

Some Lines

Our paths are separate lines.

If by chance they intertwine,

However long we stay close by,

Your future is not mine.

Do what you will,

I will be walking

My own line.

Midlands in July

Persistent rain

Hair-slicked lifeless,
Grey eyes
Reflect the sky.

Cold wind, autumn,
Too soon.

Smoke in Fog

Their constant chattering suggests
They are afraid
That if they ever lapse to silence
They will fade.

Work With Darkness

If all you know is darkness,
Learn to work within it.
Let it inform your work,
Let it shape your words,
Learn its face,
Its faults,
Its flaws.
Make your mark on its facade,
Leave it pocked and fucked and scarred,
Carve a relief from its uncaring bulk,
And one day,
It will thin and the light will come in.


Your silhouette darkens my day.

Your beauty breaks my heart,

Tears at my stomach,

Repulses me

To me.

I stare


With loathing,

You play the leading part

I wish I were you, not me.

My Gold

I’ll throw my gold into the pile, why not?

I’ll keep gambling and rambling

And wandering and pondering

And casting certainty to the face of doubt

And foolishly.

To Noise

Intro, outro, interlude,
Drifting arrhythmic
Stirring static,
Screaming feedback
Standing frantic,
Swaying trance-like,
Deafening mute,

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