The other day, in a workshop with Sarabande Books, someone shared the story of a librarian discovering a taco in the center of a book.
A taco.
Squished in the pages.
A taco.
The other day, in a workshop with Sarabande Books, someone shared the story of a librarian discovering a taco in the center of a book.
A taco.
Squished in the pages.
A taco.
You only need yourself
Did you forget?
Every time a poem is set or read alongside another body of work, including music and visual art, it shifts, altering the way we observe and absorb the words. It transforms how the poem enters the world and our hearts.
Through this gradual absorption, there is an ingraining, a re-blueprinting on a cellular level.
I ended up in my inner rabbit hole instead. I sorted my “why” on social media.
This type of restructuring transferred to my writing in, well, structure, especially helpful with poetry. Poetry is both a visual and a literary art. The shape and structure and form inform the work as much as word choice and language.
“Braced and Bedazzled,” holds a time in my life I waded in shame. This essay, every essay, behaves much like a time capsule. I’d returned to undergrad school after leaving a domestic violent marriage. Soon after, my cervical spine gave way—an old injury taking its toll. I had three young sons to care for, withoutContinue reading “On Being Bedazzled”
Me. Me. December 2008. Me. One month prior to downloading my youngest. Me. One year prior to fleeing my home, three sons in tow, one duffel stuffed with medical supplies and a handful of diapers. Me. Looking un-terrified, flexing, posing. Me. Living in duplicity. This image is not about body-beauty or suface-pretty. This was anContinue reading “Me. No More.”
Published in The Blue Mountain Review, Nov. 2020 Duende. It can feel like a descent into shadow, a murkiness blanketing the earth, suffocating humanity. Some label duende as an emotional nightfall. The term, born from “duen de casa” (master of the house), often relates to elves and goblins and creatures in Spanish and Latin AmericanContinue reading “On Duende”
Twenty-eight pages. A solid revision day. One goal for this narrative is that each chapter feels complete, carrying the weight of story on its own. Best writing today: “I didn’t know I had so much blood inside me. Feeling dizzy, I lowered myself onto the glass, lying on my back as if I were usedContinue reading “28 Pages of Revision…”