I Keep Sitting In The Madhouse / Yearning For / A Mad Transsexual Witchspell
– Abigail Silversmith Irfan
I Keep Sitting In The Madhouse
Here in the bed I was tied to before,
I sit,
thinking of possibilities we hold –
us and our mad kin.
The world takes holding away from our bodies and make them fall.
Nobody yearns for tartarus.
Continue reading “Abigail Silversmith Irfan “
From Damaged Like Me: Essays on Love, Harm and Transformation (AK Press 2021) by Kimberly Dark
Damaged, Like Me
I.
I saw a porno snuff film for the first time in Las Vegas, more than thirty-five years ago. I was there recently for a professional conference and the memory came back slowly. Which boyfriend was I with? Did I get up and leave? I know I didn’t see the end.
Continue reading “Kimberly Dark”
Piece 1:
If I could travel back in time:
Well…if I could travel back in time, there’s too many things I’d like to do, too many places I’d like to go, too many people I’d like to meet. My dreams go big and avoid the possibility of going back to a time I existed in; are my heart and mind protecting me?
Mexico City, Mexico, 1690: I’d do a prayer with sapphic proto-feminist nun Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, and maybe we could even exchange poetry.
Paris, France, 1794: I’d offer comfort and aid to a depressed, lonely, newcomer to motherhood Mary Wollstonecraft, so maybe she could get some sleep and realize pursuing Imlay was a lost cause.
Continue reading “Maria A”
Safe is Halfway Across the World
“Otaghet boo adam gerefte” (your room smells like human). This is a classic Ariana expression meaning your room is getting stuffy. Before I can sit up on the bed, she walks to the back of the bedroom and opens the room’s only tiny window. “And clean this mess, will you?” pointing to the bedroom floor. We go back and forth between English and Persian.
Continue reading “Shahrzad Sajadi”
Dear Abu
It’s a curious thing. I don’t know why when I see photos of you I must fight the urge to cry. First as a kid it was anger, then sadness, wondering why? Now as a grown woman, it’s still sadness and tears. As if my heart has been broken. As if my heart has been ripped out of me. As if there’s an emptiness inside, a void that’s never and will never be filled.
Continue reading “Daaimah Lyon”
I DESERVE TO LIVE AND NOT JUST SURVIVE, 2019
Acrylic on canvas
9” x 12” (22.9x 30.5 cm)
I Deserve to Live and Not Just Survive
I DESERVE TO LIVE AND NOT JUST SURVIVE
I DESERVE TO LIVE AND NOT DIE
I WAS BORN TO DO MUCH MORE THAN STAY BLACK AND DIE
I WAS CREATED FOR MUCH MORE THAN TO PAY TAXES AND DIE
I deserve to live
Continue reading “Cherie Jacobs”
Ignorance of a Side
I.
I love you, I tell you
But you couldn’t tell before?
My heart pummeled each sense;
My affection was confessed.
What other signs need be made;
Was I not myself desire? Continue reading “MEDEA SINSATION”
Nekoye
by Alexander Opicho
It was Wenwa who prepared the grave in which the miscarried baby was buried. Continue reading “Nekoye by Alexander Opicho”
Her gorgeous eyes stare at me
from a computer screen
as the headlines scream
Amy Winehouse, dead at 27 Continue reading “Giovanna Capone”
Blended days. Some days I feel like I can handle it all. Other days I feel like I can barely get out of bed. Continue reading “Stephanie Velez, MSW”
Madwomen in the Attic 