In Portland you go to say shalom to a Hasidic Jew and find out they’re just a hipster

The Last Ten Footsteps To The Grave

pestered by
a wyvern soul
it slithered meek
milking poison teeth

the little girl marches
with the rest of her kind
gray coats, head scarves,
misaligned spines

her pockets stuffed with
every rhododendron
she passed by on her way
to the trench dug for so many

she knew it was strange
you’re supposed to bury one
being at a time, a special hole
why did they want this collection

of us? just to hide in the dirt instead
of for display?

did one grave make us all special?

she decided it did

her coat bursted roses and she felt her soul give

The Death of Ester Bazaar

on her headstone
was a misquote
from a novel she
lied about having read

her hair curled like
spider legs in a flame

dead today,
but not yesterday, you see

so who could cry
about that?

People love to tell me they grew up in a small town and then tell me that they only had about 600 kids in their graduating class. I had 18 kids in my graduating class.

Blog Review: Lucille-Berkowitz


Blog Source:
Reviewer: C.M. Ledin
Review Date: July 8, 2014

"[P]lease, don’t give us homes / until we’ve “earned” them / and don’t let us be an eyesore / on your stoops and sidewalks" from Kill us alive to kill us slower (5-8).

For the sake of…

Thank you so much for these kind words :D

Anonymous said: Are you trans?

yes I am! very much so :)

Hey Everyone!

I am asking for a bit of a favor. I am trying to raise money for a camera so I can make a film I’ve been planning for a while. It would draw heavily from my own life, and essentially be about my dealings with transsexuality. This would be a queer film with queer characters and address queer issues. Anything helps!

Sleeping in snow-drifts

snort the white noise
from the screens
milk yourself with
western thought

keep the hair long under arm
use your fluids to spike your mane

breathe basement show sweat
kiss the deathless girl dreading debt

the dream-glow snow moves in
we freeze together, siamese twins



postured with prosthetic leg
licking love from lava rocks
smoking sod for soiled sense
paint placenta with pollutants

grow out your eyebrows
learn the names of the flowers
die a sliver every day
tongue-kiss the pain

so at least it loves you

hair glue

fed myself on bark and bees
blessings bored with my black guts

kissed me like you tongue that shrine
to nothing, to no one, nevermind

we’re gutter gals gutting gangly pigs

not the snouted kind
but the cops aligned

you’re my alley cat
nails in your baseball bat
shine these knuckles, brass
on his handlebar stache