February, 2025

a turn and burn
to portland in february

was excited to go
but then all i could think of to do once i got there was to sit in a bar and read
a book of short stories, alone

no good sleep, lately. maybe it’s been decades

the brightest spot in these miserable times
leonard out of prison
every time i see a photograph of his face smiling in the sun
i can’t stop sobbing
airline attendant had to bring me napkins for the snot
and he’s not mine, but in a way he is all of ours
and here come more tears

another bright spot
drinks out with smart & hunky kevin
who i’ve known for almost 30 years now
30 years!
at a dive bar with trans goths
and carla drinking whiskey neat
we all got carded at 50+
hot!

and of course, all the words written
and people gathered together under bright bookstore lights
to drink fancy wine and touch the covers
not too schmoozy, everyone seemed relieved
or at least i did, it was an awkward treat to feel so safe

a very nice literary man asked me about my writing career
“uhhhhhhhhhh” i responded.
literally, “uhhhhhhhhhhh.”
(carla was a witness. how she didn’t burst out laughing—a miracle.)
i wish i’d just said,
“writing is my favorite thing.”
it was fine. everything is fine

stopped in cottage grove, heading back towards home
i fear i am on a slippery slope towards going off the rails on a certain hipster christian who is afraid of trans women taking away opportunities from his 7 year old daughter, that of alllllll the fucking things to be worried about, might he consider our country’s pervasive rape culture, the fall of public education, banned books, and access to health care

i may have to quit dharma group, because i actually want to pour sugar in his gas tank. I won’t. really, i won’t

lately, good sleep only comes with unprescribed xanax, a bedtime gift

wish i could grow a thick beard so people in my town stop calling me a “lady” but i really don’t want a beard. the dysphoria is real. maybe i will do it anyways, coos bay doctor who knows what pronouns are and how to use them, thank you. i’ll be a trans menace! no one will know what to do, not even me.

small town women uncomfortable hanging out with me
except in groups apparently, because i might hit on them? i’m not fucking going to! and ummmm. that’s homophobic. i guess i’m still confused how it works here. much love to lena, one of the only ones who reaches out regularly and also says yes. yes! we were greeted by a beautiful owl once. and i like having to run up the mountain to keep up

absolute dread driving by the wildlife safari with the tortured tigers & bears
meth-head owners have abused them for decades, but even the representative from peta told me doing anything about it was, essentially, a lost cause. wake up thinking of their padded feet most nights, sweaty and cold and sick and sad. me and them.

my kind mom trying to be hopeful, my drive-by salem hug
she said we just have to get through these four years
but i said, it’s all over for us, this incomprehensible damage will be with us forever, making her lovely shoulders slump, and i’m still very sorry for saying anything at all

tender/tough heather who sings like a bird, like a gust of wind
shoulders like an olympic swimmer
throwing down left and right
so many fuckwads! so little time
one by one she tells them off
tells them she’s afraid her partner will be murdered here
lumps in our throats
we walk in the forest, jump in the freezing river
practice shooting the guns we don’t want to own

oregon oregon, born in your dirt, and i love you
going to stay and keep existing
just a little body here, still alive

just very tired, already