Man’s call is the squeal and the grind and the crash
Blasts of horns and toots and beeps
Click-clacks, slams, and whooshes and dings
Spinning chops and whirring turbines
Ticks and pops and groans
And sixty cycle hugging hums
Which we hold so dear and tight
All as sonic signs of progress
That pester us
From the cradle to the grave

©Heather Coldstream


About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
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