Happy Wednesday!
Look. I know it’s not actually a happy Wednesday. Everything is terrible beyond just the normal terrible ways. Everything is terribler than usual—trust me, I know.
I hope you don’t think I’m callous to continue to catalog silly little things. You’re still going to get a prompt from me in your inbox every day for the next six days, because I promised 30 days of prompts & providing one daily has sort of given me a sense of purpose. Thank you, once again, for keeping me alive.
Here’s what I have for you today:
The prompt
Housekeeping
What I’m reading
Quotations
Resources
Tweets
Because I’m apparently feeling snarky, it’s a long one—
so please open this email in a new window if you want to get to the end.
Day 24: Prompt
Write a poem in honor of LGBTQ+ Pride Month.
It’s almost June! That means it’s almost Pride Month! This poem can be about an experience at the Parade, it can be dedicated to a queer/trans loved one, it can be about your first girl-crush, it can address your own journey, or it can be about shame, if you want. What I mean is: you don’t have to be ~part of the queer community~ to respond to this prompt. You can write an allyship poem; you can invoke Sappho; you can use a gay-ass quotation from Emily Dickinson as an epigraph.1
Anyway, here are some examples:
& a few of mine:
Housekeeping:
There was a mass shooting in the US again yesterday & I don’t have anything poetic to say about that.
Netflix
has released a new transphobic comedy special the same week that they laid off a ton of LGBTQ+ employees. I intend to cancel my subscription just as soon as my parents finish Schitt’s Creek. Please join me. &, if you have any Netflix stock, maybe sell it because—with so many other streaming services now to compete with—it only goes downhill from here for Netflix. Karma, baby.
Anyway, this post was about Chappelle, but it can easily apply to Gervais now, too—and it’s worth reading:
Also:
I will be in Houston
for exactly 32 hours in early August for a bunch of appointments. Anyone want to lend me their car? I will give you a bazillion zines. I will make you some art for your walls. Let’s barter like in the olden days. I’m broke but can offer something. Hmu.
Issue 9
of The West Review comes out next week. I love promoting writers, even in such a small literary journal, & paying them what I can for their immense skill.
Any publisher requesting First Rights should pay for those rights. I don’t think there’s a need to pay for reprints, but if you’re an organization that insists the work can’t have been published anywhere else: you need to pay for that right.
That’s my hot take & bizarrely what gets me into the most trouble. I’m not saying that you, as an editor, are a Bad Person for not paying your contributors. I am simply saying that you are unethical.2
What I’m reading:
Hilarious. Please stop giving dull people cool jobs. Unfair that she gets to share her ~hot takes~ in the NYT while I’m stuck crying in my car on a Tuesday afternoon again because no one will hire me.
Quotations:
All night you eyed the man I wanted to be;
my jaw flexed tight.
-W 177th & Broadway, Taylor Johnson
Resources:
Tweets:
In conclusion:
As always, I hope you’ll consider buying some books or art or zines or shirts or giving me attention on Instagram. No pressure, though.
See you tomorrow!
-DB
Here are a few of my favorites:
We are the only poets—and every one else is prose.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1850
Oh, my darling one, how long you wander from me, how weary I grow of waiting and looking, and calling for you; sometimes I shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert
In thinking of those I love, my reason is all gone from me, and I do fear sometimes that I must make a hospital for the hopelessly insane, and chain me up there such times, so I won’t injure you.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
I am glad there’s a big future waiting for me and you.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
How very little while it will be now, before you and I are sitting out on the broad stone step, mingling our lives together! I cant talk of it now tho’, for it makes me long and yearn so, that I cannot sleep tonight, for thinking of it, and you.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
I shall think of you at sunset, and at sunrise, again; and at noon, and forenoon, and afternoon, and always, and evermore, till this little heart stops beating and is still.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
Forgive me Darling, for every word I say—my heart is full of you.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday, and be my own again, and kiss me as you used to?
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
I hope for you so much, and feel so eager for you, feel that I cannot wait, feel that now I must have you—that the expectation once more to see your face again, makes me feel hot and feverish, and my heart beats so fast.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
My darling, so near I seem to you, that I distain this pen, and wait for a warmer language.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert, 1852
I am greedy to see you.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert
Susan knows / she is a Siren— / and that at a / word from her, / Emily would / forfeit Righteousness.
-Emily Dickinson in a letter to Susan Gilbert
I am MOSTLY kidding. Please picture me winking & doing a little smirky-smirk. I’m kind of serious but in a loving way. Okay, bye.