Genderless ultimate, with feelings

frisbee poetry, something you never you knew you needed, from “spirit world with geoa”

spirit world with geoa
3 min readJun 18, 2022


I played genderless-ish ultimate last month,

mud and rain and hopeful words, tears and soft reliefjoy after a cross-planet move and low-key pandemic

it felt like home, like relief, like empowering and chill, like building this dynamic, beautiful ecoystem

that might stand the test of time and change with us, for us, this structure built perhaps around reflecting on our power structures,

around prioritising pariticpation over competition, pushing back on our own anxieties and creating space to play, excel, thrive — not just win

around joy and change and building for more people,

building maybe, finally, cycles of questions and listening and pushing and trust

It felt like


a breath

I hadn’t realised I’d held,

releasing a fastly rusting screw that had started to dig into me

it looked like beautiful junk-zones, adaptable and fluid

like funky ho-hexes that moved and flowed, throwing to open people in open space, moving moving throwing eye contact, space not speed

I got to feel the achingly strange beauty of mixed ultimate, but

this time

could just be


a teammate not a woman cutter handler captain organiser advocate?

a person not a gender role, playing role, leadership role


entity in the whole, not a person looking for their box, and given one, too

it felt kinda quiet,

like something was healing,

eye contact and consent?

growing under cloudy weather, in amongst the concrete

it felt like a weight was taken away, just


and I could just be with my friends who I loved,

Jewish prayers and moonlight dancing and cold mud between my toes, prancing to the bathroom and the deeply queer/human joy of questioning who we are and that American brilliance of

discussion, sharp and sad and anxious and wanting

wanting and waiting for a safe haven

that no one ever really gave us

for a home that cares, that lets us ask questions and lets us feel, words tumbling out of our tents and white claws,

building something for everyone because we feel empty and broken and dying, death, gone, money-soaked brains and delusions and exhaustion and loss of home, land forgotten and gasping and heavy —

rain on our skin and



It’s warm, here, inside, with you.

Smiles and nudges and laughter and empty hearts filling and acknowledged, together we build a warm fire and share tired eyes and happy smile lines and


we are —

building a space where we come first, then frisbee

it’s a nice warm hug

in a dying land full of freezing cold summers and

filled with a touch of hope and a fierce cry of we must fight, build, hold, release, heal, be, ask, question, listen, speak —

we played a max of 3 cishet dudes on the line, our opponent vibe-matching us from there

feeling each other out, eyes and frustration and worry and clunky-slow,

trying something new and failing but







the failure and success as strange and secondary as our gender


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photo from the lovely Simon Reynders



spirit world with geoa

fey faerie fairy tale stories brought to you by geoa geer and whoever else is around today