The Maenad
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You will never see just how scared
This precariousness makes me
Swinging at sharp swords with
Slim fingers,
bloody hands trying to find purchase
Climbing over ignorance, gossip-girl shit.
Stop Trying to bind and contain me
Straitjacket or amaze me into silence,
Or cloud my iris, there’s
No ending to my verbal violence.
Open some doors, call for support
Or find some cover
I’m here to abort, all that’s wrong in my path
Pierce erase and throw it in the trash
What are you saying?
What’s over this shit?
I can’t make sense of this, scrawl that you call finished
What good is form when you have to say
Nothing at all
You’re hairspray go ‘way. I’m at war
What are you for
What good are you today
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The Maenad (She/Hers) Transgender Goddess, an activist, artist, poet, publisher, sex worker, and author of creative non-fiction, erotica, fantasy, and science fiction.
Her work has appeared @corporealitmag @engendered @gutslutpress @fahmidanjournal @redplanetmag @wickedgayways @365tomorrows, within the Gongfarmer’s Almanac and on Madwomen in the Attic.
Her first chapbook, a work of trans erotic liberation, the Ishtar Cycle, is available from @lupercaliapress
Find her @dreaminggynoid on Twitter and @scarlet_maenadum on IG.
Beyond the Underground 