by mk zariel
flow chart for the doomed
what it must be like to transition like
ripening fruit—to grow more in tune
with one's gendered rhythm, each passing day
a new identity—to pulse with delight at
a world that sees you living—
i long to come out like his
sticky-sweet becomings yet instead
i am purely a quandary—i don't
want to call myself nonbinary because
that implies that the binary is real,
the rest of us lingering outside it
like small children screaming to be let in
to a building they would most likely wreck—
don't want to call myself transmasc, always,
because i'm not a dude, because most cis dudes
have conspired in AI-driven group chats to
make my life hell—and don't want to call myself
a lesbian, except around trans people, or someone
somewhere, without critical thinking skills
will think i'm a TERF. i want to transition like
a carnivorous plant, shining with verdant colors yet
at least a threat to hierarchy—transition like belonging
is real—like there's a label out there without
some kind of baggage, some kind of implication—
i want to be transmasculine in the way a butch dyke is—
except without ascribing to the existence of gender—
i want a wikipedia page for every label complete
with a moodboard rather than an explanation—want to
cite Monique Wittig every time i share my pronouns—
want to abandon gender in the forest to be devoured
left to decompose, to grow.
icebreakers for the melted
would you rather fight every living human
or check the signal chat? it's a toss-up every time
a dissection of the risks involved in
what started as a discussion group and quickly became
the war of words you scream to the universe
when one more person lets the illusion break—
would you rather stay an anarchist for life
or have friends? it's a quandary to those of us
who fail to get along with other anarchists, due to
an unnecessary combativeness better served
for actual power structures: would you elect to
debate people over whether they are
BashBack aligned or prefigurative? aligned
or broken? anarchy drawn in five-year plans
or vibes, man—or lived experiences,
but we don't talk about those. would you rather
protect trans kids or hold space for us? at least this community
values trans liberation—until one is trans and fed up
with the manarchists, the bros—would you rather check the signal
chat and its abyss of conflict--or start your own affinity group—
and two years later realize—that you have all the same problems—
what anarchy did you envision before one of your own
still told you that you were being too utopian?
movement building
where others have mixtapes and kisses blown to the wind
we have the kind of radio silence
that resonates with the longing of what might have been—
—you say love under fascism is impossible, in part
because you just read the coming insurrection
for the first time & have mixed feelings
—and all i can think is that maybe
you just mean it's impossible with me. i don't know what to think when
you announce that you're trying
healthy interdependence as in
you ignore everyone around you when you feel like it—
i read your texts like you're writing
in some cypher that's unnecessary for
your threat model—like i'm mapping out your every pattern—
the ideal timeframe might erase
the creeping sense of distance, you say
love under anarchism is impossible
because people have nothing to desire toward, in part
because you just read my poetry for the first time &
have mixed feelings. i'm no invisible committee
no architect of movements; sometimes
i just feel like an extra body at every action—
there is strength in numbers but not
when we all grow quietly interchangable—
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