Never Angeline North

Never Angeline North (she/they) is a transfem writer living in Olympia, WA. She is author of the books Sea Witch (Inside the Castle, 2020), Careful Mountain (CCM, 2016), Rainbear!!!!!!!!! (Apocalypse Party, 2022) and the forthcoming book I lived a life as a cloud that followed overhead (Inside the Castle, 2025). She is online at http://never.horse.

Easy read of the poem in the images above:

.:. A DISEASE OF TIME & SUN .:.

(CW: frank talk of seasonal depression and mental health diagnoses, explicit talk about transfem bottom surgery)

I.

There is a surgery in me.

A surgery is an act, an event, bounded by time, but the surgeries in me are time-travelers.

They sit in my body, waiting for me to refer to them, 

to explain to myself or others.

They push out, childless, yearning for time and sun. 

They touch the spines of books,

kiss their fingers, do the laundry 

at their wife’s place 

because their machine is broken.

They drink coffee with milk, no sugar, press elevator buttons and dandelions in books.

The idea of my surgery is that it would involve less explanation, 

but that was before I knew about the time-travel. 

Before I had so many surgeries filling me up, 

making my belly push out childless.

In fall I bramble and eat berrymush. 

I swim cold, but glow. 

In fall I dread the dim light.

Bro, do you ever just push out childless?

Bro, is it gay to have a surgeon remove 

your cock and balls, create a hole, a slit, 

connect it to the fresh red tissue 

of your ascending colon, 

which was removed for just this purpose, 

and is now only connected on one end?

Bro, do you ever just have a pussy to nowhere? Just a ded-end-puss? 

I take my surgeries out of my body and keep 

them as fucked-up pets that bleed on the carpet.

I lose myself and my security deposit 

to their wanton blood and time travel.

In fall I bramble and eat berrymush, 

dread the dim light, 

swim cold, but glow.

The tissue of the ascending colon is porous. 

What this means is sometimes I have a period, 

colon period. This is what I mean 

when I say my surgeries were 

surgeries of punctuation. 

Since the surgeries 

I have a .:. 

And my :

is a ;

(I lose myself and my security deposit to my wanton .:. and time travel)

I failed a blood test because I have too little free 

testosterone for a woman.

As a woman, I failed a blood test because too little 

of my testosterone was free.

Women should be free

(to bramble and eat berrymush),

our testosterone should be free

(to press elevator buttons and daisies in books).

II. 

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a disease of time and sun. 

It isn’t coded as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), though. 

It is Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), recurrent [severity], with *~seasonal pattern~*. 

I am very glad my MDD has a cute seasonal pattern. 

It seems more festive that way.

A surgery is an act, an event, bounded by time,

but the surgeries in me are time-travelers.

Watch me oscillate in time, faster and faster. 

When you look close, I flicker. I bramble & eat berrymush.

The surgeries in me talk to a healthcare provider if you struggle with any of these symptoms.

When I say we, I mean myself and all my fucked-up pets (SAD).

The surgeries in me are fucked-up pets that react to time & sun & wanton blood. 

We swim cold, but glow.

The feminine urge to fly to Arizona to find wanton blood by a canyon. 

My blood in Arizona takes the form of an aunt. 

Back in Indiana we say ant.

The feminine urge to pass a blood test

the feminine urge to keep your security deposit

the feminine urge to start bupropion,

to say blood ant.

I am no longer estranged from my blood ant, I say with my chest. When you look close, I

flicker.

Bro, is it gay to MDD (major depressive disorder), recurrent severe, without psychosis

(CMS/HCC)?

Bro, do you ever dread the dim light, drink coffee with milk no sugar, belly pushing out

childless?

Anhedonia is a beautiful name for a girl in winter.

She sits in my body waiting for me to refer to her, 

to explain to myself or others.

Back in Indiana we say don’t talk to a healthcare provider 

if you struggle with any of these symptoms. 

Back in Indiana it isn’t coded as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). 

It is gay with a *~seasonal pattern~*.

It seems more festive that way.

The tissue of a blood ant is porous

because their machine is broken (SAD).

The idea of visiting my blood ant by a canyon 

is that it would involve less explanation, 

but that was before I knew about the time-travel.

Back in Indiana we don’t 

dread the dim light.

What dim light?

Back in Indiana we say 

testosterone should be free.

The feminine urge to stare at a light box,

take fish oil, 

vitamin d,

jog regularly, 

remove your cock and balls, 

create a hole, a slit, 

connect it to the fresh red tissue 

of your ascending colon,

and MDD (major depressive disorder), 

recurrent severe, without psychosis (CMS/HCC) 

anyway. 

I lose myself and my security deposit

to wanton dread of the dim light

and time travel.

The feminine urge to blood ant by a sun canyon,

the feminine urge to remote job,

the feminine urge to plane tickets,

the feminine urge to skip town, 

with *~a seasonal pattern~*.

The feminine urge to lose your food

stamps because you made $500 once.

When you look close, I flicker.

The feminine urge to Arizona anyway, recurrent, without psychosis (CMS/HCC)

Bro, do you ever watch your unemployment payments count down to 

zero in November without a job on the horizon?

To the horizon, we pray for sun. 

To the horizon, we cry solar.

To the horizon, we .:. 

with a seasonal pattern.