Mischka (great name), I have another story to tell. I am a serious poet. The editor of an online poetry journal was going to publish a bunch of my poems. I read some of his own poetry, and it was dripping with liberal sympathies, so I posted my anti-trans poem. That got us into a long argument via emails. (By the way, I'm a liberal too, I'm just not stupid about it.) We ended up hating each other. He was completely convinced that there are three-year old children in the world who are suffering intolerably because they are not the right gender, and he just assumed that I was insensitive to their suffering. (I'm not insensitive to suffering, of course, but I understand that suffering is part of life.) His belief that three-year-olds can suffer so terribly over their gender is the kind of thing that trans activists want us to believe so that they can spread their ideology. He wasn't swayed by my argument that children don't have the maturity to make such choices on behalf of the adult yet to come.

Here is my anti-trans poem. Let me know if you think it is any good. I wrote the poem when it was more common for men/boys to transition than for women/girls to transition. Since I can't do italics here, I use all caps for italics. Also, getting the spacing right is almost impossible in this comment format. // THE NEW AMAZONS // Some of them actually look like women, though most of them can’t pull it off. I do admire their courage to risk ridicule. // For the rest of us, years of laughing at comedians in wigs, pearls and frocks must be forgotten, for the law says we must take them seriously. // So many musts. // We must accept them as real for what they think they are. We must let them tell us who WE are, for they are experts on everything surreal. We must speak about them only in words they specify. // Women must welcome them into their games, live with them in shelters, prisons, dorms; appreciate their naked bodies when they bathe. Children must accept them as their guides. // This is the New Order, a world in which every impossible thing is true. Blue is pink and pink is blue. No one is who she seems to be. Should you decide to disagree, take care. The army of the monster will engage you, slap you down, cancel, crush and shame you. The truth is on your side, but may not save you.