after olive (bly(th))’s her trans (a)genda (2024) and Vice Magazine’s ‘Guide to Partying’ (2004)
The first person to have on your guest list is: The Transsexual.
The kind of doll who’ll get her tits out
just to show off how proud she is.
“Thanks, I grew them myself!”
Put her first in line for cocaine and drinks.
Tell her how pretty she is.
Touch her
a lot.
If the tranny doesn’t feel loved she will leave.
One thing hasn’t changed since 2004:
The doll is still the life of the party.
Let me tell you what it’s like
to be the pandered plaything at the circus,
the bizarre, burlesque spectacle,
that riles everyone else up for a good time—
it’s Great.
You have to understand,
I wasn’t made for this world.
Some days the only time this tranny feels loved
is at those parties. So she takes what she can get.
The human race is a jockey club
swinging horse dicks
and I would just as soon rather sit on the sidelines
than ruin my outfit on a run.
Because a girl like me can't afford self-pity,
and if she ever gets angry she's exposing her “male upbringing,”
so elaborate self-love is the only option really.
I have never not been the star of my show,
patron saint of anarchistic mischief.
The hairy-legged faggot woman between worlds,
who would've been a high priestess
a couple thousand years ago,
but today I get my worship at a discount
from those saucer-eyed stoners at the soirée.
No, I wasn’t made for this world,
this world was made for me.
“Thanks, I grew it myself!”
If you want a good time, I can show it to ya
but you know the rules.
For once,
you gotta put me first in line.
Because if the tranny doesn’t feel loved
she will leave.
Featured photo by Ron Galella.
