You remember the week you saw your sister’s eyes in the body of a bird. The feather in her journal rattles. The feather in your mother’s scrapbook stays fastened. The feather in your father’s keepsake remains caged. You’ve seen the feathers of strangers float past. All of us have been animals.
— Kat Roland

Jonie’s tummy did a barrel roll—see: hyperventilation, effects of—but also thinking about Nanny’s Elvis impression, with the rockin’ knees and a Reddi-Wip canister as the microphone while they baked Pecan cookie balls a few Christmases ago...Nanny!
— Andrew Ibis

if it’s possible make us so small
we can hover like gods
in a spray of Windex

— Aurora Lee Shimshak

I do not lie down on a bed of grass, rest my hand on a prisoner’s tummy, feel him breathe in and out. These things are not happening to me. But I imagine they are happening. And so the movie is a dimension in which pleasure occurs, available to me only through my imagination. The movie is a technology to make me feel good. The gun is a technology to make the policeman feel good. The cock is a technology to make the prisoner feel good. Medium specificity. The body is a technology of the soul: translator of light and darkness.
— Patrick Clement James

form of a ruby | form of a blackened spoon | form of men that become beasts when you dance with them | during Lent | you must surrender your blood
— Tori Cárdenas

People are getting superstitious, sharing a Facebook post that asks what anybody expected from a school with a namesake like that.
— Aleyna Rentz

Come celebrate with us!