In The Slanted Dust

Language straining paralytic,
thrashing around in a kerfuffle
of dust and cant and sorrow…

exhausting itself and
still and side by desperate
side with Experience…

As Melody
eludes the lack
of knowing hands
delicate and stands
free and unfettered
and still a Mystery
to Language, to

Ears made for melodies
run to dance and spin
in the Slanted Dust.

I Am Words

what am I?tumblr_nl51npc95T1sppftyo1_500besides being
a tranny bitch
a tranny freak
a shim
a shemale
a heshe
a waste of a perfectly good man
a river too fartumblr_nl2mgruxUx1thfeewo1_500that’s what I’m called
by others who other me
everyday each day
over and over
again and again.

and insults and slurs?
they are the costume
they make for me
to comfort themselves
while searching the mirror
and seeing themselves
while trying to get
a handle on me…tumblr_lvlbcphL9V1qeovheo1_500am i a singer
of this song that spins
out every day
into the ether
right here and then gone?tumblr_nhyknoYu2l1ty9vwwo1_1280am I a brush
grasped in a hand
waved at the world
leaving some streaks
of texture and color
smeared thick on the day?tumblr_n87ojhCmwL1tbmiowo1_1280I think I am words
for they never stop
welling inside me
piled up and pushing
there thru the darkness
under the bright stars
slicing the darkness
with brilliance and beautytumblr_nkyqm5ruDi1sjh145o1_1280i am my words
the brilliant and broken
the loving and least
in total summation
the holy and horrible
here all at once.tumblr_nknlxhy9yt1spygklo1_1280