For women, then, poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action.
Light is a slippery substance, especially these days. Color is in plenty, almost always. This is funny because color is to light as time is to space, eventually the same thing. Pause. Back home, I watch teenagers with spray paint anoint the dilapidated bridge with streaky red, black, green, and white. Graffiti is otherwise mundane….
Girlfriend Eyes above red ribs, on the edge of acquaintance. Plastic cup; real body. Two parts vodka, three parts Coke, & Who taught you to kiss like that?
I spent this last summer splitting time between research and retail, on a race to pay for my groceries. My mornings were spent alongside the surrealists of the 20th century, shivering in the unexpected coldness of the Manuscripts archive. My afternoons were about the material, holed up in the vintage store researching obscure military buttons…
Lucy Ton That ’26 Lucy Ton That—was born again at 2:38 pmon July 28th, 2022 in Harvard,Massachusetts when she jumped off of abridge with four strangers. The distancebetween her two bodies was sixty feet,captured by the rust and wooden slats of therailway bridge and the murky river beneathit. The old Lucy Ton That is somewhereelse—inhaling…