Poem for ‘15.’

Sophie Pupo

from Mathilda Cullen's “Sonnets to [Orphe]us”: an erasure

so this poem made me cry today

gave me access to feeling that

did not come from

the pit of

some psychic pain


nor from some

self-inflicted wound


while I was reading what

you wrote I

did not want to die

I did not want to hate myself


I remained flatly unconcerned with

whether this qualified

as a radical trans poetic project


bc frankly one is usually only

concerned with such a

classification if one is

attempting to swindle

her fellow tranny

no,


I just remembered that

I was a human being in a world whose

momentum is pitched towards

convincing me otherwise


and no, that is not enough

to start

a revolution


poems do not start revolutions

nor do poets only

revolutionaries start revolutions


no,

it was only enough to 

keep a thing as simple as

me alive a

little longer

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