So these go back in time towards the Greco Roman figures
who are part of the repertoire of most
transsexual autobiographies written in the 1950s,
through to nowish.
And so, there is a little bit of Tiresias in here.
"Up Close, Personal, Again."
"Mythology is cheap as foil, for soulful
at a time when it is not souls we are looking forward to.
I can't pretend to know the first thing about your age.
I would never do that to a woman,
having been for seven years.
But what awry I find extraordinary is the fuss.
I suppose there was a time before snakes, before Oedipus.
I suppose knowledge used to come in a different wrapper,
another hanger of the airport, perhaps devoted
to an exotic, recently decolonised and southern state.
Great beaches with palms of Paris.
Your favorite color green, and the women swanning in heels
so high like they were born to.
Have you ever considered I might have forgotten?
I might have preferred?
I might have preferred to be forgotten.
Think of my family.
Cassandra's belly swelling with unwanted futures.
And what is it to live past everyone you've held dear?
I could be vain's contingency in blue,
a vanity of the television era.
A lovely young girl, just imagining,
beginning to imagine another one's caress.
Blank depths to come.
I am tired through.
I have fessed fast into wound, and no other to dream toward.
So that's me.
How do you do?
No?
So how do you do narrate the end of the world?
No?
So how are you?
I'm asking because I'm interested.
In the air, there are different sounds.
Below the Earth, a new mineral, is what you are.
Go ahead, open a maw or caw.
If you have one, open a maw or caw.
Tell me about our end."