I’ve recently had three poems published. The first, A Line From This Poem to Me, was published by Tealight Press. It’s about discovering my gender in a space that couldn’t even say its name. Two other poems, She Asked Me Why I Write Poetry and It Made Me Want to Sing, were published in issue 2 of Ghost Heart Literary Journal. This issue, called Transcend, is dedicated to the voices of creators who exist in the trans experience. If you’d like to read more of my poetry, you can find it on my Poetry page.
Centring our creative community
I usually feature writers, but we have the ability to work remotely during lockdown. Tattoo artists aren’t so fortunate. One of my favourite artists, the one responsible for the poppy tattoo on my arm, has started selling prints on Etsy. E.K. is more than an artist—they are also part of a community of tattoo artists that work to make their field more safe, equitable, anti-racist, and sustainable. Their work is bold, clean, and usually nature inspired. You can view their work and make purchases here.
Three of my poems were published in print journal The Avenue‘s sexuality and gender themed issue. They aren’t available online, but the issue can be purchased here.
If you enjoy my poetry, you can always find more of it here.
CENTRING OUR CREATIVE COMMUNITY
Author Dianna Gunn wears so many hats, I’m starting to think she’s a hydra. When she’s not prolifically penning stories, recording podcasts, or helping authors learn how to market their work, she’s busy creating virtual conferences. There’s one coming up on February 20th called Worldbuilding Deep Dive. I’m particularly jazzed for the Accessibility in Worldbuilding: Understanding How Disabled People Move Through Your World panel. All of the panels are free, though spaces are limited. Writers can sign up here.
I stumbled across a poem I wrote a full two decades before I was open about the queerness of my gender. I sometimes feel like I was leaving myself breadcrumbs so that when I finally realized how lost I was, I’d be able to find my way home. This is one of those breadcrumbs.
For folks using text readers:
The clothes, they feel wrong But the fault’s in the wearer In terror of being Exactly myself With the clothes That I chose From the piles on my shelf I’m pretending I’m someone I’m not Someone else Someone normal And happily lost in the crowd When I’m lost in this shroud In this lie Over-false Truer walls around feelings That don’t match my pulse
And I’ve twisted around From the me I should be That even my clothes Have rebelled against me
Saying, “There are some things That we have to discuss. For we’d rather you naked, Than fake it, With us.”
by H. E. Casson
(CW: Eating disorder, gender dysphoria, body discomfort)
I ate a thin girl for breakfast today I heard her bones crackle as they gave way I watched my belly grow in size I saw the fat distending my thighs She tasted like two-day-old gristly chicken I thought, as my arms touched my sides as they thickened
I ate a skinny girl for lunch I heard her crunch
I ate a slender girl for dinner She didn’t even flinch She swallowed the air until she was thinner Counted every inch
I ate a thin girl for breakfast today (I used to be like you, I grinned) In keeping my promise I fed her a steak Then carefully shovelled her in
I ate a thin girl last night as a snack I was a thin girl and I’m not going back