ira writes

questions for aloe vera

if you rip
its roots from
the soil
have them stand
in your home
is it still a rose?

and if it’s still a rose,
do you think it
misses the sun
as it rises
reaching out to pat
      its head
every morning?

do you think it
finds our water
    refreshing?

do you think it misses
dancing with the
gentle hands of
        the wind?

does it find our walls
comforting
and our “welcome home”
mats as signs of safety
and solitude?

do roses feel
   anything at all?
does it mourn for its
   lost life?

perhaps misery loves
company and if
roses feel misery
then this place
in my space
is destiny is it not?

we can mourn
        together
and i’ll pretend that
its lack of dewey
dawn leaves
is a sign
of repressing.
and we can repress
together.

we can converse
and i’ll pretend its
silence is a sign
of active listening
and i’ll talk and
talk and talk and
talk and talk and
talk and talk
   and talk and
rant and talk and
chit chat as
i usually do.

and i’ll find its
aloof nature inspirational
and envy the strength
    of rose
as if my rambling
is inherent weakness.
i’ll ask rose to
teach me a thing
or two.
the sun will rise
again and i’ll
tell rose that it’s
okay.
i’ve been there too.
(we can ignore causes
in our moment of
shared empathy
and consider this
the beginning of a beautiful friendship).


anti-copyright ira gray

interstarlize

the moon rules this domain at this hour
and her minion stars glisten
a blanket of institutions
connect dots of intersectionality
and the magnifying glass of this ozone layer
will fry the minority ants
engaging in childhood games

i wonder if i am the manifestation of the ocean herself
perhaps we all are
reflecting the night sky
with this amorphous solid
through the halls of this tomb
we will call it light and ingenuity
while we lie lost
and instead discuss the potential colors
of our fruits and vegetables
or the potential sounds of the long lost fallen trees

compassion is my lover
though they are not my leader
so i have never been quite good at following them
we are polyamorous
we tend to share ourselves collectively
and freely to our cisgender allies and enemies
sometimes to our trans* siblings and friends

perhaps it’s the tide rising
perhaps the tide itself is bigoted
inexplicable jealousy bubbles up
when trans* loved ones sing the songs of the sky
as we lie in the kingdom of the moon
neglecting to notice the institution of the stars

i find my skin burning and realize that i am the ant
equipped with rage
incessant
incessant
incessant
rage
compassion can find another lover for this night
for there is no tolerance here
tonight, i am the focus of the ozone
but do i cease to be ocean?

anti-copyright ira gray

flightless plights

i am the bird migrating in the winter
who loves its home dearly
but if i wish to exist any longer
i must keep flying and gliding
far away

oh how i wish to hold you close
but sheer proximity
stirs my blood
and my heart overflows
our magnetic poles shall
negate each other
i must remain far away
if i wish to remain at all

anti-copyright ira gray

the emotions embodied by water droplets

as they combust into steam

confined by the metal of the tea pot

the rage that incapacitates vocal cords

making voices crack while turning

powerful roars into vulnerable chokes

if only my skin would disperse

the air could consume me

facilitate my exodus

enable my constant presence

my surface area would act as prisms

and light will cut through me

i will be the catalyst of beauty

the vibrating primitive brain

is the puppeteer of my spirit

there are no borderlands 

in a world of only pathos

pupils en masse

i don’t want to see
the stars again
for they’ll never be as bright as your eyes.

oh, gravity, pull me in.

i never thought
i’d want to explore sands
but each grain is a treasure
lost to the wind.

oh, quicksand, pull me in.
oh, gravity,
pull me in.

anti-copyright ira gray

a shame

we can unfold this grey blanket
and wrap it around our bodies
as we make love to ideas
and fuck ideologies

perhaps we can hide in here
beneath the wings of our thoughts
as they caress and stimulate our skin
while providing the comfort of the night
for darkness is not immorality
but rather the shade of the doorway
to righteousness

let me whisper into your lungs
while alveoli absorb the pennies
and convert them to lovers on gondolas
who will forever sing and paddle
and create ripples in your limbs
to push them around me

we work vibrationally said the herbalist
free of the constraints of constructions
for while we lie in the palms of the devil
we create god

anti-copyright ira gray

lovehateagain asked: I notice that your work Trans Man is not on here. Is there a way i can be linked to a copy of it?

Oh yeah, of course. I’ll post the video and the text here tomorrow.

intermission

don’t move
freeze
don’tmovedon’tmove

rigorous rigor mortis
such vigor
are you eager
to get hard

anti-copyright ira gray

three thousand tears older and wiser

walk on me
i like the way it feels
i like the pressure of your heels
on my throat
can’t complain until tomorrow morn
when you’re gone

change the passage of time
convert seconds to tears shed
make this moment last forever

and if i bow to anything
i’ll bow to my own
rationalization

anti-copyright ira gray

i keep i keep i keep

the elephants have migrated
they no longer look upon us with shame
their space has been occupied
by the corpse of the horse

we celebrate rump and shoulder
what beautiful legs
they would make a great end table
we celebrate glossy eyeballs
let’s turn them into doorknobs
make these hooves into coasters for our coffees

columbia and cuba mask the smell

anti-copyright ira gray

practicing catholiecism

purgatory lies on the other side
lies
lies

this corpse is walking
it drags its feet between the lines
where no one reads anymore

limbs decaying, punctuating
with the weight of the universe

blood and bile, tell us we can breathe again.

teased tribulations thirst

anti-copyright ira gray

freewrite:

i miss the pain of shivering

the sun is just too comforting

there is something so validating

about the whole planet crying

with you

because your tears 

are not strong enough 

to accurately depict

the convulsions of the heart