I met Titania McGrath at the Genderfree Silent Poetry Class I used to attend on a Thursday evening at the Basement Bar in York. I remember her standing out from the rest of the artistes because of the amount of screaming she did. Since her first draft of ‘My Ovaries Are The Devil’s Kidneys’ which she wrote back in 2013, her work has come on in leaps and bounds, and improved with every court summons.

More recently she has found her niche on Twitter. She inspires thousands of followers, or dare I say, disciples, with a heady mixture of defiant slam poetry and staunch feminist views. Her poems are raw, unbridled, angry, and often nonsensical. Like Lewis Carroll meets Quentin Tarantino. An example of her genius is here with one of her most well-known pieces:

There is no holding back when it comes to her poetry, and her tweets are no different. She has no fear of voicing her progressive ideas online despite the very real and constant threat of other people disagreeing with her.

Her tireless fight for women’s rights often results in smug disdain from toxic males and their endless barrage of violent disagreement, probably due to them having small Nazi penises.

Nevertheless, she bravely battles on against the relentless tide of hideous mansplaining, to pen more and more great works such as this heart-rending piece which she recited to a homeless guy who was begging for change outside King’s Cross. I remember her telling me she could see how grateful he was simply by the confused look on his face:





She’s also tried her hand at comedy, and let me tell you, she could give Hannah Gadsby a run for her money with progressively unfunny material such as this:

As we all know, ‘funny’ comedy is offensive comedy. The Mash Report has eliminated any trace of humor from its scripts in order to remain a joyful experience for a non-triggered audience.

Unfortunately, Titania’s particularly harsh brand of uncompromising poetry, coupled with a badass attitude made her a target for mass reporting, a way for Twitter trolls to remove accounts they don’t like. Twitter finally relented to their appeals and shut down Titania’s account on December 9. A respectful hush settled over people’s timelines, like the first snows of Winterfest. Her furious disciples demanded Titania’s account be reinstated ASAP:

Titania’s housemate Jarvis was beside himself as he attempted to console her.

Rumors abound that even The Pope himself was on the verge of writing a speech to be broadcast live from the steps of St Peter’s Basilica, begging the CEO of Twitter to resurrect Titania so that the masses could once again benefit from the powerful healing aura her online presence emits.

Thankfully, after a worldwide candlelit vigil, Twitter saw the error of its ways and decided not to side with the Nazis after all. At 10:14p.m. GMT on December 10, Titania’s account ban was lifted.

‘Huzzah, huzzah!’ the children cried, ‘Titania has come back to us!’ People emerged, blinking, mole-like from the darkness of their hovels and held hands. All was well again. The evil Nazi trolls had been defeated. As I type this, tears are streaming down my face. My own account remains lost, but at least we still have Titania…for the time being.

I will leave you now with another one of her poems:

I remember the first time I read this piece the disturbing truth of the line ‘You will never be Aswad’ shook me to my very core (message to Titania: I love your work, but I urge you to add a trigger warning next time).

Welcome back, Titania McGrath.