the dog wrote

my name's Ben. im 25 and a disabled trans man looking to eventually become a published author. this blog will mainly be a place to share my writing, participate in writing exercises, and talk metatexually about writing. i use tags, here's a list with brief explanations.

#nature - writing centering around nature in general

#animals - nature writing focused on animals

#ND - writing about my neurodivergence/mental illnesses

#disability - writing about physical disabilities

#tourettes

#eds

#ra - rhematoid arthritis/pain talk

#addiction - talk about my various addictions

#RDR - exerpts from my novel, Red Dog Rising

#antho - poems ive selected for chapbooks

#swords - exerpts from my smutty personal fic

#clean - clean material without any NSFW features

#sus - you could probably read this at work if no ones looking, some NSFW features

#NSFW - yeah this isnt safe for work

#TW - possibly triggering content. will be followed by specific tags

#romance

#family - for members of my found family

#passion

#jay - about my husband

#jer - about my nesting partner

#sunny - about my qpr

and for the first time,

i went outside for a cigarette

and when i felt uncomfortable

because its december and certifiably freezing

i sat down my pack

TW blood

This is a poem for the good nurses.

Who get blood on first prick

And bring warm blankets

And lay them over you

Like a mother over her child.

This poem is written with

The tears and the sweat

Of the good men and women

Without whom our society

Would crumble.

This poem is for you,

For the tired, overworked, underpaid

For the spat upon, shat upon

For the people of every race,

Of every sexuality,

Of every gender,

Of every religion, creed, and ideology

Who put on their shoes each day

Getting to know this body

Simultaneously mine and someone else's

And finding love there

🦽⚒🔴

Bigger and Slammier

TW r slur, ableism, reclaiming of r slur by ID/DD individual

TW grief

My imagination is all I have

Left of you that's still alive.

I picture your steady hands

As you draw me in close,

Place a  kiss on my forehead,

He pulls me apart

And calls me sweetheart

And through ministrations

Of utmost passion

TW drug ment

Pre employment drug screens are bullshit

Because if they cared about narcotics abuse

They'd put harm reduction clinics

In every park, community center, and school

And narcan would be available in every home

And doctors wouldn't prescribe morphine

For routine back aches

And dealers would fear the ramifications

Of a bad batch

And every addict would have a home to stay in, money to survive on, a job to work

But they're concerned about weed.

Or the tests would look for literally anything other than weed.

Or the "drug free workplace" label wouldn't be placed on places deemed "real jobs"

While no pizza man has ever been asked to do a drug screen

To get a job.

Because we care more about our food

COVID Reflections

When I envisioned my return to poetry,

To slam poems,

To knock your socks, off.

Take your breath away, off.

Maybe even get your rocks, off.

Slam poetry poems

I thought it would be at my local theater's Friday night poetry, debauchery,

Bring it all as long as it's original

Night called No Shame.

No shame was one of the brave casualties of COVID that went softly into that good night.

And I thought I'd share this poem with them first, about another who went softly into that good night.

I want to tell you about Jay.

He was 22.

He was brave.

He was the smartest damn man I've ever met.

He had more empathy in his broken body than I've seen in people twice his age.

And he was the love of my life.

A couple times a week I air my feelings out,

To Twitter or Facebook,

To the small communities that have brought me love since I lost Jay,

To the carefully curated groups I have there

And I still get a few people reacting kindly

But my reach has dropped.

Others have moved on.

I haven't.

See, there I go, off in space.

The love of my life.

Right.

Jay Loughran was the love of my life.

He will always,

Through death and life and loss and love,

Be my husband.

My forever.

And COVID took him.

Guys, I'm done talking to you like grown ups.

Wear your damn mask, we should've all been practicing for two goddamn years now.

Get vaccinated. Fully. Follow up. And carry that card like a badge of honor.

And take this shit seriously.

anything

to see

this moon

this sky

these stars

with you.

how does the sky

as you kiss, consumating

love never before known

in this realm of man.

he asked, "is this self harm,

or for physical pleasure?"

and for a moment i didnt know,

my perception of both intermingled

and confused,

but when i looked in his eyes,

i saw that i could feel pain and pleasure

without razing the village,

that i could separate the curtain

and view myself kindly

my every nerve is

the contours of

your body

with fingertips

he knew i had work the next day

without me ever mentioning it

and it felt so domestic

that my heart cried out