CRÉATIONS LITTÉRAIRES
An Elegy For The Heterosexuals In Medical School
A leans across the table towards me and asks, “What would you do if I said I identified as an attack helicopter?”
This semester, A and I have been assigned to the same Problem-Based Learning group.
The Lithe One
She was tall and lithe. He was languorous, draped in mesh. She was yellow and amorous. Amongst them I was a square shaped 5’4”, the only trans masc surrounded by two Amazonian trans women and one fluid cis gay man. Today an orange-hued despot with a blond combover was inaugurated as US
president.
Under The West Indian Sky
In tonight’s torrents I think the time to tell has come. It is with a great amount of contrived patience that I produce this correspondence. I would have written sooner but the weather prevented me. The sky hidden away in her grey blankets refused to give counsel and I couldn’t make the decision on my own. I couldn’t find the words by myself. I couldn’t approach you without mediation.
When we met I felt the first drops of the rainy season. It was, for me, the most definitive, duplicitous and sensual moment of the year; a time that gave me the ability to align my imagination with actual experiences of you and start the production of this work. I wish our moment could have remained but there was too much rain.