sovay: (Viktor & Mordecai)
It is Pride in Boston and this year it feels especially political, what with the current administration being generally full of homophobic, transphobic embarrassments to ass clowns. Here is a selection of more than usually queer things I have had published on the internet in recent years. Most are poems; three are flash; two are short stories. Some ghosts. Minor autobiography. I regret nothing about Shakespeare/Marlowe.

"Persephone in Hel" (Stone Telling #3, 2011)
"The Clock House" (Stone Telling #7, 2012)
"Lyric Fragment" (Goblin Fruit #26, 2012)
"The Green Man Answers the Classifieds" (inkscrawl #4, 2012)
"In the Firebird Museum" (Stone Telling #8, 2012)
"Ψάπφοι Σελάννα" (Apex Magazine #47, 2013) [notes]
"The True Alchemist" (Not One of Us #51, 2014)
"In Winter" (Lackington's #3, 2014)
"Anonymity" (Mythic Delirium 1.2, 2014)
"After the Red Sea" (Goblin Fruit #35, 2014)
"ζῆ καὶ βασιλεύει" (Ideomancer 14.1, 2015)
"On Two Streets, with Three Languages" (Interfictions #7, 2015)
"Skerry-Bride" (Devilfish Review #16, 2016)
"Vocatio" (Twisted Moon #1, 2016) [notes]

My plans for the day include wearing Sir Fabulous the Third and seeing a movie with lesbians. I admit this does not necessarily differ from a regular Saturday.
sovay: (Lord Peter Wimsey: passion)
So I started my day with the Wachowskis' Bound (1996)—which I will write about, although I might need to sleep more than two hours first—and continued it by attending Pride with a work colleague of [personal profile] spatch's and meeting up with her best friend and his boyfriend and eventually a third mutual friend of theirs at the parade. City Hall Plaza was a glorious zoo of flags and signs and face paint and people of various ages, genders, ethnicities, abilities,1 orientations, and degrees of clothing. Thanks to him sending a picture of his immediate surroundings, i.e., taller people, we located the best friend right around the time the contingent from MSPCA-Angell followed by the Boston Hoohahs came through. (I had not been warned that he looked distractingly like a young Timothy Spall. I made it very clear that this was a compliment.) There was a lot of noise and confetti. I came out of it with a pair of rainbow sunglasses, a very large rainbow tote bag, and a triple string of beads in the colors of the bi flag which I will probably hang next to my delegate's pass from the Democratic State Convention. Twice we thought the parade was over and we were wrong both times; we finally left in search of frozen yogurt somewhere after Capital One. I was very glad not to miss the Boston chapter of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, whom I will always cherish for canonizing Derek Jarman. I hadn't even known there was a Boston Gay Basketball League. The float for the Orlando Pulse survivors—its flags bearing the names of the dead—raised an earthquake of support. I left the house without a camera and got no pictures of anyone, but I would say it was a joyous afternoon. I spent most of my time applauding. I really didn't need to have brought a jacket. This may have been the first community/political event I've attended since the beginning of the year at which I did not run into anyone I knew already and I think that is kind of wonderful. I was at ease with strangers. There was a giant rainbow flag hung out at City Hall.

1. I saw people with canes and people with wheelchairs, but the pair of people conversing in ASL without disruption from all the cheering and music had clearly won communicating in a crowd.
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