Abstract
I woke up from a feverish nap, the bottom half of my body on the cold floor, my upper torso on a corner piece of matting. Other women’s feet lined above my head in a row of little spooning bodies, all of us in a forced intimacy for the night at Brooklyn Central Booking. It so happened I was in the often delightful, but quite aggressive company of queer women in a jail cell. One big friendly dyke asked me, “Yo Sparkles”?my jailbird name due to my gold sequin miniskirt?“What you in for?” I replied: “I wanted a free education.”
