I’m baaaaaack from the woods of Vermont Studio Center (actually more of a village lifestyle), where they gave me a big white room, which I filled with my exploded brain via sumi ink and brush. Thursday, October 19 at 6:00 PM I’ll be sharing some of this month-long installation of maps and personal geography, alongside two rad writers, Summer Karaskova and Tara Atkinson, at Lit Crawl. This summer at Till, we all wrote by walking, listening with the ears we attached to our feet, in a workshop I led at Smokefarm. Come trip balls and dismantle the narrative plot patri-arch with us:
The Highline 210 Broadway E. Seattle WA 98102 (21+)
Gather for readings by Tara Atkinson, Summer Karaskova, and Rachel Kessler, three rad women affiliated with Till. This is farm to table poetry, interdisciplinary work, and freshly published fiction that will leave you happily hungry for more.
It’s nearly summer solstice, and the sun calls to us on these long golden days, urging us to don lab coats and roll down grassy knolls. An instructional video experiment by the Vis-a-Vis Society, with Britta Johnson and Ruby Seiwerath.
Washington State Poet Laureate Tod Marshall selected my poem to be included in WA129!
Inspired by Moomins Feelings Flashcards, and partially written on a Path With Art “Writing Around the City” class I led on visit to the Locks, this poem about a giant squid’s documentary voice, the sadness of salmon and real estate shares book space with Sherman Alexie!
Thank you, PANK, for publishing my prose poem “The Gods’ Funniest Home Videos.” This poem was inspired by Sandra Suarez, a woman who ripped off her clothes, rampaged through a McDonald’s and guzzled soft serve straight from the nozzle. Her rage resonated with me. As I watched, I felt such kinesthetic empathy with her actions. Both the power and futility of tearing up an evil place with bareskinned strength. She was having a bi-polar episode and some asshole employees videotaped it and now the whole world has watched and laughed at this woman in crisis. Every report describes her as “mother of two.” Female rage and motherhood, capitalism and nutrition, surveillance and Shadenfreude, oh human mammals and the stories we weave to keep safe. Read it here:
Tahoma Literary Review published my long poem “Oblique Strategies For Self-Knowledge That Had A Lot of Energy But Are Ultimately Depressing Because Hope Is Eclipsed by That Self-Loathing Marauder Who Loots Everything.” Read it here.
Thank you, Elizabeth Bradfield, “the naturalist” in this poem, for showing me your snapshots of adolescent whales wrestling with their 8-foot-long pink penises that I can never unsee. Thank you, Mark Bibbons at The Awl, for publishing this poem.