Fuck you, Bill Cosby

We live in an alternate universe where Bill Cosby is a serial rapist. No, wait. This is our reality: We live in a universe where Bill Cosby is a serial rapist and a malevolent sexual predator. This is what a generation of eighties television viewers had to let sink in. He's that stand up comedian... Continue Reading →

On the power of erotica and literal masturbation…

I have reviews in the queue to write and movies to finish watching, but it's Saturday. I'm lazy and procrastinating and it's what you do on day with nothing that's pressing on you to get done. I also blame this book for my dreamy state:   Tamara Faith Berger's Little Cat It's two of her... Continue Reading →

Denise Levertov and Lincoln: some fragmented thoughts.

The world is not with us enough O taste and see the subway Bible poster said, meaning The Lord, meaning if anything all that lives to the imagination's tongue, grief, mercy, language, tangerine, weather, to breathe them, bite, savor, chew, swallow, transform into our flesh our deaths, crossing the street, plum quince, living in the orchard and... Continue Reading →

Art Exhibits, Feminism, Launches, and a tiny bit of Thurston Moore

  I am tired. After many months of writing, painting, preparing, drawing, and oh heavens, winter weather, I have a bit of time to relax. Last month I participated in the Feminist Art Conference, read my first conceptual piece at an event, released my new chapbook The Octopus Complex, and opened my first solo art... Continue Reading →

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