The other day I was driving along thinking about Banh Mi. If you’ve ever had Banh Mi, you understand. I was trying to remember who I’d eaten it with last–I remembered going to a restaurant on Rockville Pike with a friend, but couldn’t remember who. I knew it was someone super fun, and the conversation was awesome…
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I had a beautiful sweet post about my beautiful sweet son, but I don’t have it in me right now. Before I read the poem below on Friday night, I said, “Every time something shitty happens in this country, I feel an outrage that seems quaint when the next thing happens.” On Sunday, the body of…
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I’m reading at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe this Friday at 10 pm, which is pretty thrilling/I’m nauseous. I’m planning to read some of the body poems, poems that were liberating to write and are uncomfortable to read. One of my favorite books about love and sensuality is Written on the Body by Jeannette Winterson. I lent it…
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On Saturday evening, I went for a long-anticipated walk in the city with a dear person and the rules were these: we go straight and turn in the direction of a walk signal when we can’t go straight. No destination, no decisions. See what you see. If the light’s green, you go. Period. It was the best.…
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