Cavar

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(I) The things I'm afraid to say because of who might a story in erasures.

I wish I could tell all the things that frighten me but truthfully her seat at the power-
knowledge nexus amplifies the
I'm feeling today and everyday so much that all I
can do is and

when she asks me how can I be of servious to you

I service wrong because it feels that way. Lately I've been th
worse and worse and if only I could enough for it to be as scary as is.

(II) The other

things I'm afraid to say because of who might be
a story

echoes the song mile-deep it's mine. it's in my cupholder. It's in my camera. you're not
mother says the song into my ear bec amera

tap edo ver

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re: [my] tiring

of people treating my gender like a kind of cure
ncy, like... i'm trying to use my insurance rather than my
pocket, so whaddyu care what my pants are full of? i mean I
spent everything in my pocket on tuition i meant I mean
transition. So clearly nothing's left to see. Forget amex when
im I i use my [[[[F]]]] 64.0 for everything now and when I turn
it in at the office they say say gimme meat and im like if you
didn't take all my shit i'd probably have it by now & i wish i
wish I want less in on occasion. i mean the coolqueerbois
taught me how I oughta look and how I aughta fuck and how
girls aughtto fawn me like a great buck, or however the
metaphor goes. Like 2 years in I got great horns to fight the
boys w. Like in 2 or 6 more I'll be another word and who
wants that? ha, get it

WHO?

yeah this is my poem and so i get to choose who's capital here
& who's destitute and who's never seen a dollar of their own
and guess what today I wear the pants tho i'm
actually wearing a nightie at 2pm (that's pm) with some pink
sheep on it & listening to thrash or whatever that gender is...i
mean genre can't you tell what i mean re:

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i have wondered

about which desires i am allowed to feel for as long as i have
felt. i fear i am one of >> those << who chews a filthy wad of gum, spits remains
in its sweet roundness bitter, tasteless,

malformed

although there is no body that is malformed or misshapen there are bodies that have been formed
and reformed with lustful malice, i fear (for) myself i fear
for any object of my rage or teeth like the gum, redder than shrimp, pinker than blood, my being
gum itself, gummed, gummy, crimes against enamel all

wonder

how along goes on in the average body, when to lose my taste? can you fix the thing with
listerine? can you fix it with vanilla? can you fix it with your tongue alone? can you tell
my belly back

[sarah] Cavar is a PhD student, writer, and critically Mad transgender-about-town, and serves as managing editor at Stone of Madness Press and founding editor of swallow:tale press. Author of three chapbooks, A HOLE WALKED IN (Sword & Kettle Press), THE DREAM JOURNALS (giallo lit), and OUT OF MIND & INTO BODY (Ethel Press), they have also had work in Bitch Magazine, Disability Studies Quarterly, Electric Literature, The Offing, and elsewhere. Cavar lives online at www.cavar.club and tweets @cavarsarah.