Saturday, 3 December 2022

3rd December 2022

a glimmer of sun
before the clouds roll back in
speeding vixen

© Rachel Green December 2022

coming out
can be an intimate affair
or a massively public one.
There's social media now
and Youtube tutorials
but I was just that weird kid
who would give blow jobs for money
and was really shit at talking to girls.
I married a transguy
and that was a huge mistake
until I finally realised
"dude? you're a girl,"
and all my friends disowned me.

© Rachel Green December 2022

Friday, 2 December 2022

2nd December 2022

bramble flowers bloom
against the christmas lights
discarded trollies

© Rachel Green December 2022

flashing indicators
and raised voices;
a car on the pavement, the driver arguing
with another guy.
None of my business, maybe,
but I phone the police,
just to get them moved on.
Now I wait for repercussions
frm the local thugs.

© Rachel Green December 2022

Thursday, 1 December 2022

1st December 2022

night radio
as we pass the pizza house
limping dog

© Rachel Green December 2022

new marks and injuries
appear on unblemished flesh
and can't be explained away.
It's either jiu-jitsu training
or abduction by aliens.
I'm siding with abduction
but I don't believe aliens would bother;
I'm thinking Republicans.

© Rachel Green December 2022

Wednesday, 30 November 2022

30th November 2022


limping dog
missing a toenail

© Rachel Green November 2022

running for president
he hosts a meal
for thr most anti-semitic members
of the American celebrities.
Somehow, this is okay;
a sad indictment
of the Right-wing movement.

© Rachel Green November 2022

Tuesday, 29 November 2022

29th November 2022


still dark
in the morning garden
barking dogs

© Rachel Green November 2022

"honour his last wishes," they said,
but he wanted to be buried
in the churchyard of his childhood home
as if the years of racism and homophobia
somehow made him closer to God
but then, he was Christian,
where xenophobia is part and parcel of belief
and hatred is just another word
for faith

© Rachel Green November 2022

Monday, 28 November 2022

28th November 2022

birch tree

silver bark and yellow leaves

marked for felling

© Rachel Green November 2022

there's a child on the street

punching a slightly smaller boy

who doesn't want to fight back.

This is my childhood;

bullied by Peter Dasley, Chris Baker;

Tim Oswich; Janine Cauley.

It was my own fault, apparently,

for having ginger hair,

for being clever, for being poor;

for living in a big house

for doing my homework

for going to a different school

for going to college

for voting labour

for being trans

for being me.

© Rachel Green November 2022


Sunday, 27 November 2022

27th November 2022

night wind
fading to a whisper
disturbing dream

© Rachel Green November 2022

individual jam-jars;
the ones you get at hotel breakfasts
each one scrubbed clean
and the labels steamed off,
replaced with hand-lettered notes
attached with clear tape.
"Daniel," "Lucy," "Finley,"
each one stuffed with teeth, hair, fingernails.
A deranged serial killer,
or a grieving mother?

© Rachel Green November 2022