trans, nerd.


January 2016

Falling, Sorta

It wasn’t a trip but a jump,
The same for every ledge down,

I’m falling but not really falling,

I’m smiling

I’ll be smiling

All the




Reasons Withheld

A jarful of flies on a window ledge
Waiting dormant,
For a reason,
Any reason,
To begin to buzz again,
An angry, amped and cranked
And ruinous tearing, shredding
Until reason
Takes hold –
The buzzing
Now stalled,
The jarful is dormant again.

January’s Smile

It feels like waking up
To spring’s first moments,
Warm breeze and blossom
And hope,
And life.
Six wintered years
Slip away
The darkness fades,
Not entirely, but
Enough to function
And awaken,
Even to smile.


A couple of days
Outside of the cave

Look up
See the sun

And stay.


A sybilant S
Through a treble-heavy tannoy
In an echo chamber station
Is irrationally

The Diplomat

Shambling from guest to guest,
Spilling drinks on people’s best,
Pestering, trying to impress,
Forgetting names, a drunken mess,
A political liability,
Sent in as representative;
A tiresome, broken, fucked-up fool,
A broker of the tentative.

In Tonight

Walking west and watching
Over my shoulder at the colder
Edge of night encroaching slowly
And the light levels drop lowly,
Into lonely darkness,
‘Til the muted yellow streetlights
Make their stand against the night
And I stride, long worried strides,
‘Til I’m protected on all sides
Within my home.

Slow Dawn

That peeking realisation
One is not the devil,
Nor a demon,
Nor a lesser malevolent being.
One is born into a form
Which may be twisted,
May be broken,
May be far from beauty pleasing.
One is still a human being.
Just another human being.

On the Horizon

Like the lift of the blanket
Letting cold air in,
I see the edge of the cloud
Letting daylight in,
A band of brightness
And beauty.

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