"writing rage is joyful, right, instinctual, unadulterated, and most of all, corrective." ⚡️
What does it mean for women, in particular, or other marginalized groups, to embrace anger in their craft? What's the generative potential?
Come find out & rage with us: buff.ly/v8upg3W
#AssayJournal
this is a pride flag made from real nasa imagery
happy pride month 🏳️🌈✨
Thank you @patriciaqbidar.bsky.social !
New interview up over at The Palisades Review
www.thepalisadesreview.com/authorfeatur...
Lindsey Pharr
ICYMI here's my Mother's Day micro essay. Here's to all the motherless children.
"I smile terrifically with all my teeth." Chelsea Stickle strikes again with this stunner. And we get @erinvachon.bsky.social in the same issue!?!? Lucky us. Thanks @bendinggenres.bsky.social
I love this so much.
Me, walking away bewildered from a social interaction: "How the hell they know that random fact about my life? When did I tell them about it? Wow, my memory is shit these days."
Hours later, at 4:00 AM: "Oh, right. I write personal essays."
HOW?!? HOW?!?! How am I just NOW learning about the poet Etheridge Knight from Corinth, MS? Just goes to show how growing up white in Mississippi I was blind to all the Black genius surrounding me. Today's poem:
www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49932/...
Need a laugh? Me too. Remember when a goose fucked up Fabio on a rollercoaster? Read my weird little flash.
Thanks to @rgvaughan.bsky.social and the @bendinggenres.bsky.social editors for taking my silly mythology seriously... 🪿☀️🎢
"Nobody talks to you here, thank God. Not even when you go out for a smoke in the bright day, where the cicada roar echoes the engines on TV, and the meady reek of honeysuckle blossom drives it home like a steering column to the chest: there are so many things you can never get back." A tough gem!
New flash up in @bendinggenres.bsky.social about body positivity in swimsuit season and the glories of gelato. Thanks to Editor @rgvaughan.bsky.social for publishing it!
bendinggenres.com/fuck-em-eat-...
ALT: a cartoon of homer simpson standing in a grassy yard
No moon floods the memory of that night only the rain I remember the cold rain against our faces and mixing with your tears only the rain I remember the…
It’s Mother’s Day, and you wake up mad. Hands up like a boxer against any gesture of solace. This year it’s official: your mother has been dead as long as she was alive. Put that on a fucking Hallmark...
www.thepalisadesreview.com
It’s Mother’s Day, and you wake up mad. Hands up like a boxer against any gesture of solace. This year it’s official: your mother has been dead as long as she was alive. Put that on a fucking Hallmark...
They’re* saying I have a weird new parenting story in the super rad @somewordslit.bsky.social today!
*I am
Daniel Miller
Three Voices of God I My daughter comes to me with cupped hands. It is just us. The park is, otherwise, a ghostland. A breeze has begun to push and pull at a chain
