BOOM! The sound of almost 30 poets dropping almost 30 poems EACH in 30 days. It makes an audible crack. It makes a sound. It sounds like windows opening, walls breaking, music-making, more space, creation. There are suddenly more poems in the world.
For 30 days, poetry went flying around our inboxes. We read poets and other writers: Chen Chen, Juliana Delgado Lopera, Wren Hanks, Claudia Rankine, Rita Dove, bell hooks, and on and on and on!
Thank you so much all who participated, it was such a magnificent group. Here are some pictures from our reading.
We will be doing a genre-queer version of this workshop (open to poets, fiction writers, playwrights, anyone) in September, meanwhile, thank you so much for joining us. If you couldn’t join us, we missed you. Here’s one of our Poetry Missions:
“Fingernails // through hair is the cause of electricity which is disorienting. I am / teaching myself to contour signifying shadow and maybe dishonesty. A closet is a place to hide the mess of room, however / having sex in the dark is a thing I’ve only done with men, / signifying plenty. I lied to you before: // when my hair is longer it will mean there is more of me.”
~Sally J. Johnson, “to begin a poem with you”, from Emerge: 2016 Lambda Fellows Anthology
Explore a time when you taught yourself something. This might be a tangible thing. This might be a musical thing. This might be a bicycle thing. This might be a math thing. This might be a sex thing. This might be cutting your own bangs. This might be learning to lie. This might be public speaking. This might be snapping your fingers or curling your tongue or whistling. This might be recognizing anger or love or hate.
Consider: How long did it take you to learn it?
Consider: Something that you tried and tried and tried to learn, but couldn’t.
Consider: Something very small, but something that you use in your everyday life.