‘After the birth and the overnight in the hospital she didn’t go downstairs for a week.’
After the birth and the overnight in the hospital she didn’t go downstairs for a week. She’d lost some blood and she felt flattened, nearly dizzy, from the labour and then the general anaesthetic. She wept frequently, with incredible ease, and entertained the illusion that she now knew more than…
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
‘It's like by the time he was born there was too much to know.’
‘No one was safe walking to church in the dark, but Buddy knew better than to beg not to go'.
‘The sky burned white to blond to powder to an almighty blue; the sun fell unobstructed.’
‘I was vanished, invisible, another apartment left empty behind me, my possessions given away, thrown away, packed away in taped boxes fit into an available vehicle.’
‘It’s a story that happens to you once and then lives with you forever.’
An excerpt from Vagabonds! by Eloghosa Osunde.
