IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET: '3 SERMONS' BY JOS CHARLES
i live in ~the united states of america~
in ~the united states of america~ you can do lots of great things,
like i can name my body what i want sometimes.
that’s cool i tell my friends.
freedom of speech, they tell me.
my friends and i have lots in common,
that’s what makes a…
last installment of IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET
s/o to thetsaritsa & beaboutitpress for making this the best dianna dragonetti week ever
4:10 pm • 15 August 2014 • 31 notes
IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET: 'BRANDING EXERCISE, 10 AUGUST 2014' BY MANUEL ARTURO ABREU
falling on rain
to moon and moss
imagining her handwriting
snorting wet boogers
down my throat
eating fruit for 3 days
to make my cum sweeter
People tell me “you’re
and “you’re wise beyond your
in the same…
twigtech for IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET
<3 <3 <3
best dianna dragonetti week ever
5:23 pm • 14 August 2014 • 21 notes
IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET: 3 POEMS BY JOSHUA JENNIFER ESPINOZA
i turn pain into a desert
with my own teeth.
we live in an impossible place
where god is real and a woman
where i am real and a woman.
the tree branches are always moving
with the force of the sky
becoming too much for itself.
i do the same thing in bed
as i try to wake up each…
blankslate has 3 poems up for IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET <3 <3 <3
s/o beaboutitpress & thetsaritsa
happy dianna dragonetti week
3:11 pm • 13 August 2014 • 62 notes
Loss and Reclamation in Elizabeth Foster’s “i dont have to talk to me”
Elizabeth Foster recently published an ebook with Alexandra Naughton's Be About It Press, "i dont have to talk to me." The ebook is written mostly in the first person, in a style that feels somewhat confessional, offering a candid portrait of its speaker, by extension, its author.
The idea of loss is presented from the jump, as the ebook opens with a poem called “say hello to all your new regrets,” treating death with a grim and humorous familiarity. I actually reviewed this poem a while ago when it was in its draft form; to derive from that review, “the speaker’s own eulogy—‘We will never forget his smile’—and, by extension, his death, veritably drips down the page, is minimized to the anticlimax of a dripping ceiling.” This belittlement of death suggests a devaluing of life in all of its implications; this is substantiated by the desperation of some of the subsequent poems, well summarized in this couplet from “dropped calls”: “It hurts to breathe because existing/feels worse than drowning.” That poem in particular resonated with me (as I’m sure it did for many people), especially being trans myself, and I was moved by the details that seemed too real to be images, beyond poetic device, ripped from sad lives like my own: “Sometimes when I am talking to my mother/on the phone I try to make myself black out” and
This exploration of loss and trauma continues with the painful dialogues in poems like “fukc” and “lololol.txt,” as well as raving of “what are you looking at please help me understand,” reflecting overwhelming futility, the realization that “we are all a walking mess of contradictions.” The macros too compound this, beginning with the one on page 4, the delineation of how our realities continually fail us: “thinking about being in love with dreams that are forgotten upon waking.” The second macro is particularly wrenching, preceded by “March 30 2014.” I will let this piece speak for itself, as I found the shock of it to be unrepentantly real; this, for me, marks the darkest point of the book, the ultimate indulgence of trauma.
But then there is something of a turn, a reconsideration, still colored by horror but offering reinvention, the understanding of this seeming paradox: “Life is simultaneously breathtakingly beautiful and utterly horrid.” This brings me to the piece, “feral,” my personal favorite in the book, for its exploration of trauma and empowerment through the lens of the trans narrative: the dissatisfaction of the “perfect girl” impetus, the veiling of harm in self-assured “protection,” and the experience of abuse in “I didn’t have a home anymore. I/never had one. I didn’t even have my own body”; this becomes the surfacing from another “drowning,” the empowerment of “I have a body I can call home now.”
The next few poems are also representative of this bittersweetness, as in the ability to “escape,” in a sense, from one’s past in “nitrous oxide,” through the reconstruction of a new life from the old (“I don’t recall”), or in the realization that past vices and ails have no bearing in a new context, as in “salt makes me thirsty” or “mutual masturbation.” All coalesces in the final poem, “i deleted my facebook about 15 minutes ago and i feel pretty much the same,” as well as its accompanying image, imparting a strident message that questions the new strength: “Can I lie myself into a better future?” and “Does it feel different now/that we’re numb?” The “fuck off” of the last macro offers perhaps the greatest finitude in the idea that “i dont have to talk to me”—I don’t have to value my life the way I am told, I don’t have to parse myself into oblivion, I don’t have to qualify my own needs and considerations; it is sometimes difficult enough to just stay alive.
Elizabeth Foster is a beautiful gaylien prince. Read “i dont have to talk to me” here.
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s/o hotgarbagefairy & beaboutitpress <3
7:27 pm • 12 August 2014 • 7 notes
IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET: 'REVELRY' BY AMARAH SELAPHIEL
We mark the efforts of our fruitless passions
in quarter time revelry
Another drag of cigarette tastes of
futile hopes and dream time prophesies
Each exhale a letting go of the need
to be validated in a world maintained
by clean handed elders
So much like children existing in…
2nd installment of IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET is up on beaboutitpress
happy dianna dragonetti week
3:35 pm • 12 August 2014 • 14 notes
IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET: 2 SONNETS BY DIANNA DRAGONETTI
I watch my love freely descend the stair,
As in a dream. I wonder, do they break
To gloried shards, like earth at dawn’s awake,
Or could it be the haze of window’s glare,
Igniting, like St. Joan of Arc’s in Rheims,
Or Christ’s with fiery juvenescent air,
A soft and lustrous halo of…
7:21 pm • 11 August 2014 • 21 notes
DIANNA DRAGONETTI WEEK: IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET
hi it’s Dianna, making my first post for Be About It. special thanks to Alexandra Naughton & her press for collaborating w me on this.
IN FEAR OF A TRANS PLANET is the mixture of the romantic with the estranged, the perfect blend of Alex’s and my aesthetics, the image of imminent revolution….
5:43 pm • 10 August 2014 • 15 notes
Next week is Dianna Dragonetti week at the beaboutitpress tumblr
stay tunes for excellent writing curated by everyone’s favorite angel boy <3
check out Dianna’s blog: diannadragonettiisdead
photo by hotgarbagefairy (Elizabeth Foster)
ay this is happenin next week & it’s gonna be fab
3:55 pm • 8 August 2014 • 26 notes
Angel Boy: Image, Self, and the Reclamation of Trauma
The “image,” as we generally understand it, is something arguably pervaded with corporatism, tied to marketable branding…
Here’s the piece I did for Medium a while back on the importance of image-building xo
11:25 pm • 5 August 2014 • 1 note