Poetry For Transgender

Posted on: 07/08/2017, by :
Rainbow flag. Hope for all.

We are passionate about curating some of the world’s most profound and moving poetry, particularly from poets operating beyond the mainstream.

Whilst reading the acclaimed anthology Play, Say, Nay! we recently discovered a wonderful poem called ‘Dead Meat’ by Rionach Broddighan.

For those who are yet to discover her work, Rionach is a leading member of a group of young poets who have risen to prominence since 2014.

‘Dead Meat’ is technically sophisticated, deploying a mature lyricism that owes everything to Rionach’s life growing up in Ireland. The playful rhythm is a perfectly judged counterpoint to the shifting  theme of gender identity. In particular, Rionach carefully articulates what it means to be transgender in a world that still struggles to understand people of difference.

Nick Hansen has been fortunate to spend time with Rionach in her adopted home of Milan, and we are proud to have permission to reproduce this important poem right here on our website.

We hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

Dead Meat

Silicone bags,
Plump my bra,
Rain-glittered sunlight,
Rainbows far.

Bald of brow,
Pits, tits and crotch.
Paper cuts,
Three fingers Scotch

Not on the rocks,
But memories:
Of rock-hard meat,
Bring forth that beast.

Gas and scalpels,
Chopping block.
Red-haired surgeons
Shoot her cock

Into the blue,
High t’ward the moon.
Vaseline.
Two male baboon.

Yoga poses,
Dark inside.
Rumpy pumpy,
Ripped backside

Pumpy pumpy,
‘Pump me more!’
Sweat soaked eyes.
Spunk and gore.

Blast my quim
Wet clunge; don’t weep?
Drugged-up hamsters,
Boy balls deep.

Cabin crew
On a bender
Chloroform
Salute! Transgender.

 

Copyright: Rionach Broddighan (Milan, 2016)

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