shmallow,                          acrid
                                   plastic. 8                         bit
                                   game                               boy.

                                   i want to be a transvestite
                                   in a plasti

                                   dress/cancerous                  combat
                                   strapped chest/                  rugby
                                   balling into class: into
                                   myownbreasts.                    acrid
                                   marshmallow, caramelised
                                   chemo-lips/fire                  work
                                   smoke/ catherine                 wheel

                                   in a sparkler dress/             combat
                                   chocolate red.                   rugby
                                   chapped and                      bit
                                   ten to computer games.

]it is the responsibilit
 y of the male p[atien]t 
                         to be a woman[

                                   dirty cartri
                                   dge pi
                                   ns are all nostalgi
                                   c. your gameboycolour
                                   gone/unsaved progress/plas
                                   tic. a hat. a pi
                                   xie cut they gave you in chemo. i want to be a transvestite,
                                   head smooth like a ti
                                   t, like pallid plasti

                                   your favourite colour is pink.
                                   i had pink sunglasses. 
                                   i hid in an 8                     bit
                                   hillscape of                      acrid
                                   molten plasti
                                   c, jutted with transformers/with
                                   the pink of paris/with your face
                                   on the girl-hostages of ISI
                                   S, in their pink sparkly          combats

]it is the responsibil
 ity of the femal
 e p[atien]t              to be a woman[

                                   paris died over a joke. in
                                   palestine [s](i'll be there in three months)[/s] rape is a joke. in buda
                                   pest rape is a joke. 

                                                                     in london rape is a joke.

                                    (a lost toy made a woman of me)
This is a difficult yet intricate piece...the 8 bit landscape really made this piece bloom, you wave in and out of childhood memories and blend them with our reality today. There's the sense of disease and uglyness which has always been your style. The transvestite part which runs through your whole piece, and how our society makes an impact on us...what ****s us up basically. I like how you tie your piece with what you sorta introduced in the beginning, all the quirky line breaks. Feels like a lego puzzle, like a robot speaking.
If there's one critique i'd like to give is that, despite all the stylistic changes you make throughout the piece, it feels a little too detached sometimes. Although, it get's better every time I read it...
That's my first impression however, looking over this again..and it feels more like an observation of certain someones becoming.
Would you mind giving my piece a look? Thanks!
Yo thanks for looking in man. I'm not sure if this piece is detached or not, or how that works with it tbh - I need to think about the whole thing more (and be in the same frame of mind again) to see what I could change about that, or if anything needs changing.

Yeah, of course, I've given it a few reads and I'll drop you some feedback.
(edited b/c i can't delete stupid posts anymore)
Last edited by Dregen at Dec 23, 2016,
i read this again. was going to make a huge, overanalytical crit, down to even how/why you spliced/separated your words down to the letter in some areas. but if my overall impression is an accurate indicator at all, then the whole thing would feel redundant and unnecessary. this an older piece of yours, but i've always liked it and i owe you a thousand crits.

you tell your (and others') story of loss through various means (physical/mental) throughout the aging process, and how it builds and relates to empathy. "a lost toy made a woman of me" not only summarizes the constant battle of/shifting gender identity, but also how these different "little", nostalgic losses that built your empathy changed to become your final statement: your stance on rape, its commonality throughout society (your location says UK; it makes "in london rape is a joke"s contrast in spacing a sharp statement).

i wonder if you're also expressing this loss-empathy association as a latent experiential comparison/contrast in relation to your statement on rape... trying to put yourself in their shoes, perhaps realizing at the same time you can't to an extent. if that makes any sense at all. i'm not sure. specifically, i'm looking at (both variations, but here's the first one):

]it is the responsibilit
y of the male p[atien]t
to be a woman[

and how you utilize the beginning/ending brackets to contain the different sections of the poem (though "p[atien]t" is also interesting). what makes this interesting to me, is also the linguistic definition of patient (metaphorically speaking)- the semantic role of a noun phrase denoting something that is affected or acted upon by the action of a verb.. who is the noun? who is the verb? it also makes me see a therapy session, or a sex-change operation.

in a previous crit on my poem, you mentioned an awareness of text, and after reading this again i realize that it is very present here. every movement in this piece feels calculated and poignant. i might be overanalyzing this, but i think there's certainly a bigger backstory here as far as the rape theme is concerned, although it is not expressly stated.

i see certain, prominent themes: change. loss. innocence (and its antithesis). gender, identity. empathy. nostalgia/reflection. constant movement. memories and both the attachment/detachment over time. acquisition of knowledge (the caramelized marshmallow compared to the acrid one). all of what Eccer stated previously.
Last edited by Dregen at Dec 23, 2016,
Thank you for this, and sorry I've taken so long to reply. Interesting for me talking about this now as it's fairly old, long pieces are pretty rare for me and seem to become cornerstones looking back. Yes this is very much a tangle of early tension with gender, antithesis, pain of those close to me that i could not touch, a fear of thought as foretelling, revisiting what i thought i was over. Your reading is basically as i wrote it, this was a first expression of texture, thank you for giving the time and the faith to look into the linguistic elements here, there is a youthful violence in them, thinking i really had something to say for the first time.

Are you familiar with the L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E movement? think you might be interested in the poems that came out of it and the theory behind it, which i have only properly read into recently. i at least found it powerful to hear voices with similar thoughts to mine, hopefully helps me push deeper.

Again, thanks for drawing me back to this, good to see you've been productive recently and will get reading/commenting. I'm v heavily working on texture vispo these days but may post something written here soon.