Perhaps justice comes with indigestion? Karly Throws a Dinner Party

 Karliah Keeps Inviting Problematic Guests to Her Queer Dinner Parties

I know, I shouldn’t, 

Sometimes though I will 

Just invite the problem children. 

TERFs are easy, I take their hands.  Those Hands always saying “shh” & “Hush” while placing themselves firmly over your mouth, Forever. 

What timorous knowledge is knitted deep in those finger bones? A soup? A stew? CRUMPETS

Consumption brings knowledge. And I must know this terrible thing. 

SWERFs are harder, they sit on your hands, whisper lies, pretend to be what they are not, make demands. 

I already take hands.

Tis only appropriate then, I take their glands

I swear

I have swole two cup sizes 

Since I started eating the brainchildren 

Of Gloria Steinem

I will burn your bra while I fry and eat your sclera.  

It was that or slices from your typically bony behinds.  

A feast on the beach at sunset 

A rump roast, hands and half a body’s glands, shish kebab 

Perhaps it is not in the preparation 

Or the marinating of souls

But only in unlocking the pain inside, 

Spiritual trepanation of 

Those thick slow boomer skulls.

The air everywhere is thick with such likes

But I cannot light them a fire 

Without setting the world into a nepenthe blaze

Instead, I can only eat you, your heart, your brain

Interrogate your flesh, your cells, your rotting meat 

SWERF tartar, well prepared.  Now .. what do you mean?

You have all eternity now to swim inside of me, digested 

And tell me ‘what I really mean’ 

Burps and farts those,

Hot air and stanky gasses. 

Heartburn, there was no time

to separate the tails from the chassis

I am going to crack your skull open and suck out the inside

A messy girl child, eating souls at red lobster

Bon Appetit, 

Karliah Sin 

A queer trans sex worker, and cannibal. Only a little bit a vampire.