When Wanda bought the house, she didn’t imagine that anyone in the community would recognize that she and Lynn were queer.
The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
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When Wanda bought the house, she didn’t imagine that anyone in the community would recognize that she and Lynn were queer.
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.
There’s a one-sidedness to the second-generation relationship. The homeland looms large in our imagination but we don’t in theirs.
I didn’t want to know what I was looking for. I didn’t want to search or bid. What I wanted was the dream.
As grief shaped daily life over the past three years, one of the few things that has reliably brought me comfort is helping my dog be brave.
Guy Mirabeau was one of many dreamers who hoped to live beyond bureaucratic reach, but the colonial reality of the "frontier myth" can no longer be ignored.
A friend texts: Have you heard this term “she-cession”? You reply with another term you’ve seen popping up: Forced domesticity.
There was something about the country where I was born that had always eluded me.