last week, we decided to start working on a staff post.  we asked for your input about content on twitter.  i currently have two things on my mind: nostalgia and having my own beehive, so naturally choices were a photo series or cool facts about bees/beekeeping.  bees won, coming in at 61% (although, full disclosure, i will probably do the photo series later anyway).  as for the bees, i'm workin' on it and it should be up within the week.

we still have a lot of poetry (rad!), but are having to solicit other types of submissions.  if you know a photographer, collagist, filmmaker, designer, illustrator, musician (and ALL other types of artists) who might want to work with us, please send them our way.  we're sitting at approximately 2 weeks to one month before we even look at new written submissions, so please don't be discouraged if you haven't heard back.  we reply to all submissions we receive. if you or someone you know wants to submit, say hey to me at [email protected].  .

here's what happened last week!

"we were encounters of some other kind 

or form, nature. really, i was full of it
like a new baby 
dropped on the bathroom floor."

we like a lot of things about a lot of poetry, but one of our favourites is when brevity creates this sort of crystal clear imagery, because it seems almost counter intuitive.  sometimes people need a lot of words to describe something.  sometimes a concise sentence hits you in the feelings, hard.  hannah cohen is gifted at saying little, but conveying lots.  read the full poem at the link below.

scherezade siobhan is an indo roma jungian scarab moonlighting as a clinical psychologist. she created and now curates a global dialogue on gendered violence & street harassment called "The Mira Project" and can also be found squeeing about militant bunnies at www.viperslang.tumblr.com.

her poetry is elegant, flowing and descriptive.  it also packs a solid punch. 

1. from "mira as victim typology":

"Mira at the dining table clutching her kneecaps, knuckles cockling each mound of bone, the dulled blood of bruise flattened to the golden purple of Ammi’saubergine fritters. Mira with her teeth opalescent like freshly peeled garlic for Ammi’s chicken liver curry. "

2. from "mira, after father's radiation therapy."

"In a hospital, God is a scar tissue. A dog breathes as if a slur slipping off
my drunk uncle’s tongue. I place the poem between a prayer and a profanity. "

this essay reads a bit like an ad lib, with redacted words and phrases blacked out.  it compares the way the author loves to the way her mother loves (and examines the distance between).  it's touching, nostalgic, a touch tragic and, most importantly, relatable.  it explores both physical and time-related distance.

you can read the full essay below.  siobhan also writes for Hooligan Magazine and works for Cards Against Humanity. 

p.s. yesterday was my birthday and i am feeling very grateful for a lot of things.  i love you guys so much - your contributions, feedback and presence make this such a pleasure.  really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.