When Wanda bought the house, she didn’t imagine that anyone in the community would recognize that she and Lynn were queer.
The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
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When Wanda bought the house, she didn’t imagine that anyone in the community would recognize that she and Lynn were queer.
The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
Standing in the wreckage of these spaces unlocks a sensation people often crave, but can’t name.
It’s an imagined past, a pastoral imaginary, an alternate timeline in the multiverse.
As I watched my childhood friend under arrest on the evening news, the hopeful narratives of racial advancement that had sustained and motivated me began to collapse.
The journalist and author of The Only Café on violence, how curiosity sparks our accumulation of memory, and why nothing is ever new.
Like anything I love, I mistrust the color green down to the fingernail-edges of all the feelings it engenders in me.
The author of Her Body and Other Parties on writing the fantastical, existing in the periphery and blueprints of the past.
Is it possible to decolonize and police a thing as subconscious and primal as desire?