Poem by Misha Lynn Moon

December 15, 2023

Trans Girls of the New Abundance

For Jay, who died in 2007
The biggest team we find for ourselves:
trans girls of the new abundance.
We have cell phones and super computers

when the old girls only had each other,
had to repair themselves with horse piss, knives,
and blow jobs in cars, if they were lucky.

The lock of my deadname is barely in print,
waiting in old journals when grad students come.
I only think of murder half the day now.

I wonder how strong the new girls are
who never had closets, secret dresses and garters,
never had a girl disappear into an obituary suit.

We are a community, they say, point fingers
at the right kind of problems done a decade ago,
let the imperfect rot in black mold hotels alone.

But I know Jay would have stayed out longer.
Years ago she lost and turned into a ghost.
You can make it now, I’d say. They’re not going to win.

About Misha Lynn Moon

Misha Lynn Moon lives and works in Portland, OR. She has been a public school teacher, a janitor, and a CNA. She currently works at a homeless nonprofit. Her poems (published both in her name and in a previous dead one) have been published in a number of journals, including Sierra Nevada Review, Lavender Review, and Stillwater Review.