occasional elements and bodies they make   Sunlight, consequence of sun, wakes me. Sweeps slow, roams my skin, my down of hair, the dawn, rising. Spring mornings, graceful, breaking. Waking, consequence of sleep—sleep of waking. Today i may

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    Pluto   If we were starfish (who can regenerate limbs), what would trauma be? A limb lost. And still we would be two of us, would become many from the breaking off of one. Here’s the central disc: have you known yourself to

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      What does genre mean to you and how does it build/unbuild your work?   If genre is anything like law, circumscribed and reinforced by social belief in their sanctity, then I believe we have an obligation to make it useful to

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I wanted to belong — but I didn’t want to dress like everyone else. Down Eastern Avenue, I passed television repair shops thick with dust; pawnshops, biker bars; a Taco Bell. In 1990s southeast Los Angeles, this is what people wore: teased

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When Elizabeth asked me to take over editing for Jaded Ibis’ essay blog, Scarlet, I was thrilled not only to be able to participate in a press that I believe is publishing vital work, but also because it allowed for me to think about what kind

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