This poem rips and tears. A must-read. To the Man Who Shouted “I Like Pork Fried Rice” at Me on the Street by Franny Choi : Poetry Magazine. Glad Poetry magazine is printing some interesting work. I cancelled my subscription last year because everything they printed was garbage.
Tag: writing
Scoop
So too bad I'm not ambidextrous because my scooping hand is the same as my writing hand and yowza I'm going to need to build up some tougher tendons for 8 hours of continuous scooping. In the meantime, I'll start typing my journal I guess.
bell
Just devoured bell hooks's memoir Wounds of Passion. Every once in a while, I need a jolt of poet energy to remind me why I've never been able to give up stanza breaks. The relationship between work and the rest of writers' lives in difficult to embody, and more difficult to elucidate. hooks presents these relationships… Continue reading bell
Day #12
Inheritance after Cassandra de Alba Slivers of soap marking years like tree rings fused into a pillar; a collection of clown figurines glowering over the duct-taped couch; glass, marble, and plastic eggs embossed with Florida and Eloise; jars caked in ancient dust, a coffee can rattling baby teeth, yellowed newspapers barking the end of the… Continue reading Day #12
Juniper Bends | Mountain Xpress
Babes representing FREE ART in Asheville, NC. Sound off | Mountain Xpress.
List
I've been busy at my new job making tons of tip money and getting soaked in ice cream (yuck), but I've had several ideas that I will share here: Don't trust people who still act like spoiled children into adulthood. Ain't nobody got time. Buy your friend coffee or a movie ticket and don't write… Continue reading List
Chick Lit Vs. Lit Chicks
Now what kind of a dim-wit sexist illiterate moron do you have to be not to be able to read these books for what they are? --Jeanette Winterson Chick Lit Vs. Lit Chicks - Great Books Written By Women - ELLE.
Day #3
Funeral for Home Watercolor paper stacked rough as old hands-- heater grates open to a desert. Florence Boulevard smolders in inch-deep volcano ash-- thick merlot carpet petrifies like bone. A ghost kicks dirt in the basement. Long hairs drizzle the bathtub. Hornets lull the dead, fruit drops and worms feast.
#NaPoWriMo
In preparation for the inception of NaPoWriMo--an intense thirty-day poetry binge for those of us paralyzed by fears of audience, topic, detail, and ourselves--we discuss why anyone would put themselves through the torturous process of writing a bad poem draft every single day. The answer? Lots of wine. It's almost April, which means baby animals, Earth… Continue reading #NaPoWriMo
Grad
So as you know if you follow my every move via social media, I got a big fat rejection email from the grad program I applied to at the University of Washington. While part of me is surprised--the honors-graduating, essay-planning, highlighter-toting part of me--in many ways, I expected it. My application was viciously progressive, and… Continue reading Grad
Jesse Rice-Evans 