Bigtitsbitch1000x
Virgin
- Joined
- Jan 4, 2024
- Posts
- 2,768
This poem celebrates Divas, the last trans sex bar in San Francisco. Operated 1989-2019. Dubbed "Harvard" by ( . )( . ).
At Divas we will meet again,
As though we left the sun buried there
And we’ll speak for the very first time
The blessed and senseless word.
In the black velvet of tranny hot pants
In the velvet of the world’s emptiness,
The sexy eyes of ladyboys sing,
The immortal flowers bloom.
The doggystyle ho arches like a cat,
A cop stands at the corner.
One angry car speeds by in the dark,
Screaming like a Christian preacher.
I do not need to pass for the evening,
I am not afraid of the cis:
I will pray in the prostitutes' night
For the blessed and senseless word.
I hear the jerkoff’s zipper open
And a young man’s 'Oh.'
In the arms of a trick, a magnificent bunch
Of immortal roses arrives.
Out of boredom, we play with ourselves
Under the bar. Years go by,
And the rough hands of horny men
Will gather money for us.
Upstairs the walls of the lapdance cribs,
The sumptuous lace is revealed.
The clockwork motions of the man with cash;
Not for hypocrite souls.
Right. Put out our candles, please,
In the black velvet of the world’s emptiness,
The sweet shoulders of tranny hos still sing,
And in darkness the neon is bright.
The text is a pastiche of the poem 'In Petersburg We'll Meet Again,' by Osip Mandelshtam (1891-1938), martyr to Stalin.
* * *
I also recommend this feature film, depicting the Spanish Revolution of 1936-39 from the viewpoint of the anarchist women's movement. Its protagonists include lesbians, feminists, spiritualists, and hos. And the working class.
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To My Big Domme [pic attached].
At Divas we will meet again,
As though we left the sun buried there
And we’ll speak for the very first time
The blessed and senseless word.
In the black velvet of tranny hot pants
In the velvet of the world’s emptiness,
The sexy eyes of ladyboys sing,
The immortal flowers bloom.
The doggystyle ho arches like a cat,
A cop stands at the corner.
One angry car speeds by in the dark,
Screaming like a Christian preacher.
I do not need to pass for the evening,
I am not afraid of the cis:
I will pray in the prostitutes' night
For the blessed and senseless word.
I hear the jerkoff’s zipper open
And a young man’s 'Oh.'
In the arms of a trick, a magnificent bunch
Of immortal roses arrives.
Out of boredom, we play with ourselves
Under the bar. Years go by,
And the rough hands of horny men
Will gather money for us.
Upstairs the walls of the lapdance cribs,
The sumptuous lace is revealed.
The clockwork motions of the man with cash;
Not for hypocrite souls.
Right. Put out our candles, please,
In the black velvet of the world’s emptiness,
The sweet shoulders of tranny hos still sing,
And in darkness the neon is bright.
The text is a pastiche of the poem 'In Petersburg We'll Meet Again,' by Osip Mandelshtam (1891-1938), martyr to Stalin.
* * *
I also recommend this feature film, depicting the Spanish Revolution of 1936-39 from the viewpoint of the anarchist women's movement. Its protagonists include lesbians, feminists, spiritualists, and hos. And the working class.
To My Big Domme [pic attached].
