a poem for h.helyx

first roll call of the year (space-body-spectator) [w.i.p]

i absolutely dread roll call- having to explain that
no, stokely is not some new, hip way of announcing my presence,
like instead of saying "here" or "that's me", kids in the states
call out names of dead revolutionaries- karl! huey! che!
it took me two whole fucking minutes to get ms. professor to understand me:
"Ess.. Tee.. Ohh.. Kayy.." , like spelling it out
is going to make me less embarrassed.

before this morning, only four people knew my real name.
now i can just taste the questions brewing in my classmates minds:
"why did you change it? i like your old name better.
isn't yr real name good enough?"
all i can do is smile and say,
the story is long and too complicated,
because thinking abt how my personal decisions
translate in this new place is complicated.

i need some space away from these people and their
snarky (if not well-intentioned) comments about
my gender and my body and name-
i am not a spectacle, my life story is not
a book to read for your entertainment.
in class, i feel nothing but uncomfort, apprehensive of interacting with
baby drama nerds sprinting and twirling around the stage,
as if they were born to be dancers.

i do not trust anyone in this room.

i do not owe anything to anyone in this room.

a poem for charlie t.

flight fright (w.i.p)

i.

when i looked out the window
of the moving greyhound bus,
there was a plane that
seemed to be frozen in midair,
big fat metal sparrow wings trapped
in a faulknerian sort of time zone.
it soon turned & took off, as if
that second between gravity and clouds had
been my own creation.

i read somewhere that if you catch 100 planes between yr hands
and make a wish, it will come true.
the plane looks different from my hand, like
i could close my fist, and crush every-
thing and everyone on board. It
makes me nervous that my
life will soon be suspended
on a string-
cradled by a child's palm.

ii.

a kind american couple
told me not to worry.
they were headed towards iceland
for their honeymoon-
"i never flew before i met him,
and now i've traveled all over the world."
she smiled and grabbed his hand,
as if that was going to comfort me.
of course, if you die today, you'll be in the arms of
the one you love.
i have too much to live for:
there's a whole other time zone to travel too,
and what the hell is in iceland anyway,
other than glaciers and blonde stewardesses
who remind me of swedish models named frieda.
seeking comfort, i welcome jeff mangum's kisses on my eardrums
and hope for sweet dreams amongst the fat puffy atlantic clouds.

Trans H8 Crimes in the P.Valley

You guys probably know more abt this than I do.. but somebody from Hamp please fill me in more on what happened.. and what we're gonna do abt it!?!

http://genderagenda.wordpress.com/2009/09/24/anti-trans-violence/

London, BRB....

Hey gaiz.

So I'm in London. WHOOOOO...! I made a vlog abt it. Check it.



Also, here are a couple of things that have been on my mind since I've gotten here.

People keep shittalking the neighborhood here. They say its horrible, but as far as I'm concerned, it's pretty nice. I feel safe, and there's a Jamaican restaurant around every corner. I've explored a bit, and there are also lots of stores and a bus and train station not even 5 minutes from my flat. But what makes it such a shit neighborhood? The fact that it is in a city? The lack of boutiques? The abundance of black ppl and other poc? Most likely. I think that even though London is an extremely diverse city, class is definitely going to be interesting. I think in a month or so (when my money's run dry!), I'll really be able to see who's loaded. It's so expensive here.

I am also the only black student and only queer student in my flat. GAH! It can be annoying, but I think that I will slowly but surely find the gaiz. So I' not too worried abt it.

Other than that, i really do love it. The neighborhood reminds me of a mixture between Brookyln and Philadelphia. But that's just me. It feels busy and fast paced like BK, but still spacious like Philly.

I want classes to start, though. Unlike HC, there is no week full of orientation. And although ppl are doing alright meeting other students, I feel behind socially. It's been relaxing, being able to just BE and breathe and think abt everything. Relax before throwing myself into classes, etc. But I do like orientation things cuz it helps you meet folx.

Oh! I almost forgot. It's so weird, but the classes are structured like this: Professor comes in and gives a lecture aka talks for an hr str8, then leaves. Then Doctorate students come in and talk abt what the Prof talked abt in a seminar- more group based. Then you meet w. a tutor one on one (optional). And that's what classes are like. Where is the interaction btwn prof & student? Where is the space for questions and challenging profs, etc? Weird, huh? I'm hoping that since I'm in mostly drama classes, the class structure will be totes different. Hmm, who knows.

Anyways. That's what's up with me. Oh, and I haven't found a pick yet so my hair looks wretched. And I'm running out of shea butter. Although I did find some hair oil- yes! And some Captain Morgan- double yes!

Hey, if you think I don't have yr email//skype//snail mail addresses, leave em in comment form. Otherwise you can't bitch abt me not keeping contact. I'm gonna try to step up my game but we'll see, yep yep.

Love yall!!! Can't wait till I have some good stories to share.

Best.

gender wtf.. again

http://hiphopwired.com/8930/caster-semenya-gender-test-results-expected-in-weeks-gets-makeover/

upsetting. why are they making her take a friggin test?? can someone explain that to me? isn't that harassment or something?

Vlogs and Secrets Revealed!

Yes. A third one. Is my life actually that interesting? Nope. Not really. But is there anything else to do? Nope. Not really.

I also have a confession to make, one that has been weighing on my mind for a while now:

During the day, I am dormant, but at night I can't sleep. The moon shines too brightly, the outside world is too quiet, everything in my house is too still. I spend my nights pacing up and down the narrow hall, searching the rooms, looking for forgotten treasures. In my mother's room, I find a huge closer full of flowy dresses and white stones to wrap around my neck. Somehow playing dress up calms me. After twirling and practicing red-stained smiles in the mirror, I slip the clothes over my head, unclasp the jewelry and wipe the lipstick off with the back of my hand before anyone wakes up to find out what I've done.

In short, I spend my nights crossdressing. In women's clothes. It's weird, right? I know. But I gotta say, in the moonlight, I make a cute grrl. :)