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Grand Old Jack | Spelling it Out #1
What’s Grand Old Jack? I recently submitted my poem Grand Old Jack to citizen trans* project, which highlights trans and gender non-conforming people’s responses to living in These Unprecedented Times. This piece was first drafted in January, just before I became bedridden for a week and ended up writing a thicc multi-paragraph prose piece that…
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Duty Peels Off Sunk-Cost Fallacy
A potato skin curls in your spoon Her starch sisters wish her farewell An onion joins, the thick broth binds The chew is wet hide under tooth Each season present — Sage, savory thyme Peppered beef hunks Soaked sponge potato chunks Carroty currency lingers behind A mouthful of skin isn’t home The meat…
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my gut reaction to “it’s not that deep”
I have this sense for when something really bad or otherwise monumental is happening, or about to happen. I can feel the cortisol shoot through my gut. My hands yearn to claw dirt, my feet clench. It’s that bungee plunge that never returns. It’s always powerful, never preventable. It paralyzes me — and often, I…
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reflection of a reflection of a projection
In my first-year actors’ showcase, all the way back in 2020, everyone picked a word they wanted their solo performance to reflect. Accompanied by the published poems or monologues of our choice, each combination of Word and Words Recited was key to providing the audience insight to every newest member of the acting program. My…
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A Love Letter from Frost, Sheldrake, Warbucks, and Associates
“Nothing gold can stay.” You might not want to shine anymore, and maybe your time is glint as gold. (I see this as a good thing.) Can’t regret the sunset when it winks away. Choose a new more useful than gold, more lasting, more substantial. “I wanna be soil.” Yes, and, allow yourself to change…
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to the Red-voter woman in the art class I model for:
You have no idea how happy I am. I don’t think you could understand why. I, as left as they come, and visibly queer You, staunch in your Midwestern motherhood Ideologically, we’re on altogether different playing fields But we meet in the same room — You, for education I, for money In mutual…
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“I was critiquing my words and I am losing my religion” | notes from my laptop
Date: June 23, 2024 So yeah I understand how monks and shit will be celibate because they don’t want their bodies “tainted” with other people’s energy. I certainly don’t want my body to be “tainted” either. That’s not the right wording for what I feel it is, but that’s the wording I’ve got currently. It…
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when your body reminds you of the score: a notes app history in three acts
act one: the paper cut Date: 11/22/2024, 10:39 PM Trauma violently reshapes who you are without giving you a manual explaining how you’ve changed. You need to relearn who you are through vicious trial and error. And just when you think you’ve finished writing out your own manual by hand, wrist ligaments cracking and knuckles…
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new Pop-Pop POV just dropped: a sister responds
After reading “understanding my patriarchs: part one, probably“, my younger sister was inspired to write about her own understanding of our grandfather. She asked if I could post it here, and I was honored and thrilled at the implications of having the first guest post on this site be such an insightful piece as hers.…
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understanding my patriarchs: part one, probably
It’s hard for me to be candid about my extended family members. Overall, I’ve been undeniably lucky, and I’m grateful for what went well during my development. But I must also address what did not go well, and why it’s relevant to The State Of Things today. My father’s parents are well-meaning and generally pleasant,…
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