TUTUS AND THUNDER: SHOWDOWN AT DAWN
Aurora, dawn’s eternal Prima Ballerina, whose patience with Sol’s toxic masculinity has worn wafer-thin after a few too many centuries of solar sulking over the last billion years, hears a dull crack deep inside her chest. Before she even realizes it, she’s in the air, long, strong, sinewy legs outstretched, one scuffed, shell-pink satin pointe ballet shoe aiming straight at Sol’s solar plexus.
WORLD PEACE: A HYMN TO HARMONY
I want to believe
That the Brill-Creamed crows and magpies
Solemnly providing Peace Patrol
Will prevail,
MY BODY WANTS TO BE SPANISH: from Ibiza Dreams to a (Fabulous) Catalan Compromise
Where does your body want to come from?
THE ILLICIT CROISSANTS AT DAWN SOUNDTRACK: Because the songs know all the secrets
I have no idea whether the soundtrack to my poetry book will incite you to Shake Your Bootie (the track is on there, of course), get a little nostal-swoony (If You Leave Me Now Now), biturbo your feather dusting, or provide an eclectic mix for a road trip. You may never press play, because maybe you already know it’s not your vibe. And that’s absolutely fine.
ALTERNATIVE FACTS: my truth lies somewhere in between the dark and the light
The truth lies in between the dark and the light
