A poem about craving immortality, seeking home, and meeting a mediocre God.
Would I really rather be mistaken for a Hipster than a Hasid?
Listen: let my whisper part the veil, penetrate the matrixed basement membrane, cross the blood-brain barrier, enter your most...
Purim Sameach from your friendly neighborhood sacred feminine uprising!
I feel like a visitor to the earth. This place is absurd but oddly thrilling. I've learned to cope and even enjoy it. I may not be home, but I'm here.
Love, hatred, truth, elephants, homesickness, jealousy, God, and much more.
Eve lives inside my skin...she is primal, she is woman, she is curious, she is new, she is wild...Eve is not "The fallen slut that caused all the trouble," though oversimplifications of texts would have us believe that.
A poem that squeezes humor and even transcendence out of my obsessiveness, ineptitude, and rotten choices. I'm guessing many can relate in various ways.
