We walk down to the Powell Street tourist section. So many storefronts deserted: I thought this was an art gallery a week ago.... --Baz Somehow we talked about the commune I lived in, in the early 1970's, and this one white sista who ...
Charity's eyes flash fire. "I have seen how Chinese handed me my food with one hand, ... But sees this orange electrical cord plugged in the outlet, follows it, it goes to the closet——and there I am! Naked! Buzzing away!" "My goodness!
Buff, the young man strode across the street, and soon was beside the Old Man; gave him a hug. ... Red felt Joe's back, it was thick, solid; he had been working out in prison: I'm going to stay clean. I'm going back to trucking school ...
Or I'll lay right down here on the pavement! He threatened. I'll be the Rosa Parks of this street! Upon hearing this the Old Man howled in mirth and slapped his thigh—he had no idea young Junior was so savvy as to crack a joke like ...
A Snail's Progress
A Snail's Progress --3
(Granny starts taking off ugly gymshoes and produces a pair of stunning lavender pumps from her shopping bag.) I remember when the only place a girl could go out was to a gay bar--can you believe it! The few gays who would let me in.
Continuing journal of an old transsexual man living in poverty with his 2 parrots and cat.
Autobiographical reminiscences of a transsexual from Tamil Nadu, India.
I Am a Woman