We are reading through over 80 submissions and absolutely stoked about the range of genres and talent we are experiencing. We are narrowing selections down for Joe, but want to say thank you for sending such strong work. It makes the selection process very hard.
So much love.
Photo with 9 notes
Brooklyn! I’m going to be reading poems from my face to your bodies on Saturday around 5pm at Unnameable Books, in the same block of time as Amanda McCormick and Mike Young. So yes I am super stoked. Glitter might not fit in my bag, so bring some to throw on me. Check out the full schedule because it’s a poetry & music explosion for five days.
Quote with 2 notes
Girl is out of control, she reaps her hunger
On small things, rips handfuls of blooms,
As they shrilly discard the air. The golden
Seeing what I contain, as one contains
An ancient song. La La La, a spray of notes
rips hair, my only sight, now actually
Stick to cloth, home sweet home as awful
As a flood, a crowd, an epidemic beyond halt.
In heat, an absent, singular source. Words
Cure for the incommensurate. La La: who cares
in the fresh air to which we now, even now,
Rapture is the antidote as may be.
When you are a woman and you use a confessional narrative, people tend to think there is not some more complex structure of thinking or philosophy behind that narrative. I needed to bring some of that background thinking more to the fore, otherwise, it failed…
… I am passionate about ideas. They’re not just the stuff of spectatorship and entertainment to me. They’re a life-blood, and that’s what makes the intellectual process so radically different from the academic process.
Part of the challenge for insurgent intellectuals, particularly those of us who are artists in this society, is to pull back from academe, actually, and academic settings, precisely to break this notion that has become so popular in the culture, that the two experiences are one.
when someone says, ‘he’s right over there, but don’t look now,’ i never do.
it is hard to gauge what people actually want versus what they expect from you.
i try to be easy but i’m not.
i try to be self-sufficient but i still seek validation from people i don’t trust.
i try to be a grown woman but my mom is sending me a box of tea in the mail because she worries about me.
i try not to think about a person who is far away but i think about him all the time.
i think about everyone else too.
we are lucky if we get one minute of quietness a day, and if we do, we never remember it.
i only remember the talking that i watch other mouths make at me.
i only remember the grime on the fingers of homeless people asking for change.
i only remember shaking my head and wringing my hands.
i only remember that i’m still comparing myself to the people who made fun of me in middle school.
i only remember telling him to choke me because we would both like it.
i don’t remember the silence but i think it’s supposed to be that way.
i reach for things after i notice they are across the room and i am too high to stand.
i reach in general because once again i am in desperate need of attention.
i categorize people into who i am avoiding and who i want to be the only person available for.
luckily, there are very few people left.
luckily, here we are.
yes, i am falling asleep alone tonight.
yes, i am here, how may i help.
no, thank you.
you are the new you in my poems.
Page 1 of 194