The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
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The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
Standing in the wreckage of these spaces unlocks a sensation people often crave, but can’t name.
It’s an imagined past, a pastoral imaginary, an alternate timeline in the multiverse.
“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
The author of Julius Julius on ad agency ghosts, shaming PSAs, and sexual harassment post-#MeToo
The manner of my demise is of little interest, besides serving as our jumping off point.
The author of The Vinyl Diaries on coming of age during the AIDS pandemic, midlife crises, and the music his younger partners recommend.
Congratulations to all the nominees and winners.
Love was not a drink, and my pursuit of it did not fit perfectly into the rubric of addiction, but it had taken me.