While I was writing Headshot I didn’t feel like I was watching a boxing tournament, I felt like I was fighting in it. I was trying to write from a space of inside the girls’ bodies, and inside the space of the tournament. Youth sports tournaments can have their own physics.
When you’re on the flat part of [a] phase transition . . . you can’t just go blitz through it. . . . You need to give that change its proper attention, like letting the water still in a pond so you can see the leaves from underneath, their reflection.
Allowing myself to do this book-length, weird, surreal, glitchy poem opened a whole new world in my poetic practice and praxis. It felt like a carnival.
This practice of pharmacy, fundamentally, writing about that in a fictional way brings it into the realm of science fiction. Or it can, very easily. Yet I feel far more connected to literary fiction.
My sincere hope is that someone will read this and invite me to do some sublimely goofy shit with them.
Isn’t the self always most legible in relationship, whether to another person or to the words we begin putting on the page? Perhaps to be a poet or writer is simply to continue to think of writing as a medium for relating to self and to world no matter how long you go without doing it.
How to Build a Home for the End of the World – Keely Shinners
When we are all sick, all the time (as we are now), and it is not seen as abnormal (as it is now), we can take care of each other. This is what capitalism desperately wants us to not do.
All we really had for an idea was “what if there was a weird place where cows could talk?” It’s funny to look back at the initial seeds we planted and how much the project has exploded since then.
If You [ ]: Fabula, Fantasy, F**kery, Hope – Colin Fleming
When I read these stories, my brain purrs.
The Manningtree Witches – A.K. Blakemore
The past breathes whether Blakemore brings it to life or not.