One hybrid piece by Brenna Womer.

The most nutritious morsels were for men planning to return to their villages to die.

Mama, I bought the farm for you.

she nods and he hands her a cup. they sit in comfortable silence.

If i cry,/we get to heaven

One comic by Angela DiLella.

So instead of writing an entire dissertation on the art I’m obsessed with, allow me to present to you my Holy Trinities (get it?) of music, art and literature in quick snippets.

I’ve seen what she’s seen, confirmed a shared value system, a kindred sensibility of what makes a standout dancer.

shank snapped, sawed/and split to three-quarters

Maybe we just want to be counted, as in: visible.

One hybrid piece by Jenne Hsien Patrick.

We get all these sad endings and trauma, and there are a lot of heavy things and dark things that happen in the book but I like the fact that the characters actively have to make the choice to choose their happy ending which doesn’t come necessarily naturally to any of them. I think that’s probably more realistic.

but you tenderly offer a hand, then lunge & yank the broom from me

One poem by henry 7. reneau, jr.

learned to skin a memory and string my left lung with its still warm guts

Everything is suddenly worthy/of devotion. Everything has something/to teach me. I suddenly see how quietly/the world goes about its business/without me.

He puts the dead cat in the hole we dug,/her fur still warm. For a minute/we have a small aperture of awareness.

She watches her step, careful to skip over any solid pavement, balancing on the cracks. For luck.

There is something about the way they will rearrange the table you’re sitting at that is full of tenderness and care.

(euphoria eats all language)