The idea of the apocalypse has received new meaning and urgency in the 21st century due to an increasing scientific and cultural awareness of anthropogenic climate change that threatens a sixth extinction on Earth (Ceballos). The term Anthropocene, formally coined by Paul Crutzen and E.F. Stoermer in 2001, solidifies our
Braving the Days is an existential, mystical column by Jordannah Elizabeth. Red ScarabThe Center of Love _ Defying timeKhepera “He has come forth” – Heart Scarab Ancient amulet – Egyptian offering protection & good fortune – mummification, burial – Old Kingdom, Middle Kingdom, New Kingdom, Kherpri To my heart –
The day she told me she was sick, I had sex for the first time in months. The sex wasn’t a response to the news; it preceded it, which could mean something: That I was prodded cosmically to enjoy a body— That the cosmos is agentive and I
Every absurd, irrational, and neurotic idea, for singular obsession and psychic peculiarity and vagary of conscious or unconscious thought there is latent irrationality beneath manifest order of the every day, and paradoxically appropriately suggest irrational flux of stop frisk improvised. Foreground watertight logic of the fundamental concern system as potentially
When I was traveling a couple of years ago, I sent about a quarter of my library to my mother’s house in the Rocky Mountain region. My books sat in her guestroom for a year before I called her and inquired about have them sent back to me. I’m back
The Rain The winding path reveals a violent storm as an uncut trail. My feet journey forward, regardless. My limbs flail about wet like waves of emotion trying to reconcile a memory. The tragedy devastates my mind walking through an ocean of lovers. Yet, still, I travel alone, exposed, watching
O Love, what a joy to be sick from the same dam, same factory guzzled wind. A garden of poisons blossoms in my belly, identical to yours as if we were two continents split from the same rotten land. May our children be blessed with one more of everything—
The wildflowers wilt over their own feet as I trudge through the dusty, jaded soil. One of my legs is broken. My mouth is parched. And my stripes burn. I wonder if the workers before me dealt with this kind of heat. I wonder if the workers after me will
Call them Screeners: a generation existing entirely in virtual reality. Here is the chip implanted from the incubator. Here is the birthmark from artifice, tattooed on a scalp. Pleasure is a monotonous blur of plastic & machine, whispering down the tube-fed youth. It’s a seamless frenzy. All the while fires
Heaven is a Photograph by Salvadoran-American artist and author, Christine Sloan Stoddard, speaks of a self emerging and unraveling with every photograph and poem. This book locates itself beyond the contrived and natural, imagined and real, and is considered by its author a work of parafiction*. Sloan Stoddard’s ultimate success
