Books

You know how it is. Saturday afternoon. You wake up and you can’t move.
I blinked and the floaters on my eyeballs shifted to reveal Tyler in her ratty old kimono over in the doorway. ‘Way I see it,’ she said, glass in one hand, lit cigarette in the other, ‘girls are tied to beds for two reasons: sex and exorcisms. So, which was it with you?’

— Emma Jane Unsworth, Animals

"The science of existence was completely out there for me to explore. Me, a twenty-five year old female. There’s no mystery why poetry is so elaborately practiced by the young. The material of poems is energy itself, not even language. Words come later."

-Eileen Myles, Inferno (a poet’s novel)

"In the morning, the brilliance is gone and all that remains is the hard, fragile edges. My insides feel smoky. I break the lamp, but that was an accident."

-Juliet Escoria, Black Cloud

But it occurred to me that maybe if I began (or, to be honest, continued) super-producing both asked-for and unasked-for recordings of my uke covers as gifts, I could possibly help jump-start a creative gift economy that would spill over into the larger world of exchange.

Barbara Browning, The Gift

". . . I escaped to the yard, soothed myself in the branches of an oak tree, dangling over periwinkle, looking out for swifts. Sixteen, I reflected, biting into a stolen pie. By this time in her life, my sister Mary had been pregnant. Ovid had dedicated his life to poetry. Queen Elizabeth had seen a suitor beheaded. Romeo and Juliet were dead. Whereas I, Margaret Lucas, was nothing if not in health, no single true adventure to my name."

Margaret the First, Danielle Dutton