Apr 21, 2014

3 notes
thisisrandolph:

"Now they run from bumblebees, from ants—they dash ahead into the graveyard on Church Street, where they chase pigeons, throw breadcrumbs, hair streaming behind them the exact shape of April."—from [Harvard Square, Marathon Day 2013] by Sam Cha
Last year, Sam sent us a set of poems that included this piece. In his concise and evocative language, there is a quiet, measured hope that seems to suit this day and this city so well.

thisisrandolph:

"Now they run from bumblebees, from ants—they dash ahead into the graveyard on Church Street, where they chase pigeons, throw breadcrumbs, hair streaming behind them the exact shape of April."

—from [Harvard Square, Marathon Day 2013] by Sam Cha

Last year, Sam sent us a set of poems that included this piece. In his concise and evocative language, there is a quiet, measured hope that seems to suit this day and this city so well.

Apr 19, 2014

3 notes

Literary First turned Four - And you should watch it

stevendlafond:

Carissa Halston (carissahalston) knows how to make people pay attention. Literary Firsts is a great reading series. Its name has a double meaning:

  1. What you’re going to hear has never been read before to a crowd.
    This means that a lot of things you’re hearing our bleeding-edge new, sometimes…

It’s a fact: Steven’s the greatest.

Apr 15, 2014

1 note
Wearing Boston today. What a year it’s been.

Wearing Boston today. What a year it’s been.

Apr 15, 2014

0 notes
NewPages loves the Surveillance Issue of apt! #lit #prose #poetry

NewPages loves the Surveillance Issue of apt! #lit #prose #poetry

Apr 13, 2014

3 notes
We met ten years ago today. He was looking for a book. I told him we could order it and have it by the next day. Even though he thought I was lying (he told me later), he ordered the book anyway. Thank goodness for bookstores.

We met ten years ago today. He was looking for a book. I told him we could order it and have it by the next day. Even though he thought I was lying (he told me later), he ordered the book anyway. Thank goodness for bookstores.

Apr 8, 2014

268,944 notes
  1. bisexual with a preference for the same sex does not mean "one foot out of the closet."
  2. bisexual with a preference for the opposite sex does not mean "trying to get attention."
  3. lesbian does not mean "masculine."
  4. gay does not mean "feminine."
  5. transgender does not mean "going through a phase."
  6. transsexual does not mean "a disappointment." nor does it mean "gender identity confusion."
  7. asexual does not mean "prude."
  8. demisexual does not mean "prude."
  9. pansexual does not mean "easy."
  10. heterosexual does not mean "normal"
  11. Your does not mean "you are"
Apr 8, 2014

2 notes

Pratt Library's Poetry Contest - Enoch Pratt Free Library

thisisrandolph:

Yay! So, I was awarded third place in this contest, and the poem I submitted will be published this fall in Poet Lore.

Please go read the winning poem by Mya Green. It’s great. Also, please support public libraries. They fill so many roles for so many people and their existence is vital to the health of a community. 

Randolph is the best.
Apr 4, 2014

66 notes
proveyrhuman:

kellymce:

papercutzinelibrary:

assumenothingzine:

Making these mini-zines! Just in time for my Saturday morning date with the copier.

who says bigger is better? mini zines ftw!

I want copies of this for the zine machine, dudes

WHAT IS THE ZINE MACHINE KELLY

It’s a vending machine in the back of Lorem Ipsum Books in Inman Square (Cambridge, MA). :) That’s where the Papercut Zine Library is located.

proveyrhuman:

kellymce:

papercutzinelibrary:

assumenothingzine:

Making these mini-zines! Just in time for my Saturday morning date with the copier.

who says bigger is better? mini zines ftw!

I want copies of this for the zine machine, dudes

WHAT IS THE ZINE MACHINE KELLY

It’s a vending machine in the back of Lorem Ipsum Books in Inman Square (Cambridge, MA). :) That’s where the Papercut Zine Library is located.

Mar 29, 2014

0 notes

Homesickness seeping into every song I hear

Lyrics that have changed in my mind from songs about mortality/love songs to songs about leaving the place where I really want to be/songs about going home and having the city itself be disappointed in me somehow:

From Ben Harper’s “Fly One TIme”
(in which “I” is me, and “you” is at turns me or Boston)

Inevitability
Is pounding at my door
Screaming for more
In a world that owes you nothing,
You give everything. Everything.

Now I’m caught in between
What I can’t leave behind
And what I may never find.

So fly one time—fly one time.

Standing at the edge of your life
—at the edge of our lives—
Don’t hold on.
There’s no fighting back the years
It’s so hard to unlearn fears.

And now you’re caught in between
What you can’t leave behind
And all that you may never find.

So fly—just fly—just fly one time.

I see you so clearly.
So clearly up so high.

I see you up so clearly.
Up so clearly.
Up so high.
So high.

And now you’re caught in between
What you can’t leave behind
And what you may—what we may—never find.

So fly—so fly one time.

So clearly. So clearly.
So high.

Fly one time.
Just fly one time.
If you fly one—one time

From Okkervil River’s “John Allyn Smith Sails”
(an excerpt)

I’ve folded my heart in my head
And I wanna go home
With a book in my hand
In the way I had planned.
This is the worst trip I’ve ever been on.

From Ani DiFranco’s “You Had Time”
(wherein “I” is me and “you” is at turns Boston or Randolph)

How can I go home with nothing to say?
I know you’re going to look at me that way,
And say, “What did you do out there?
What did you decide?
You said you needed time,
And you had time.”

Cause you are a china shop
And I am a bull.
You are really good food
And I am full.

I guess everything is timing.
I guess everything’s been said.
So I am coming home with an empty head.

You’ll say, “Did they love you, or what?”
I’ll say, “They love what I do.
They only one who really loves me is you.”

You’ll say, “Girl, did you kick some butt?”
And I’ll say, “I don’t really remember.
But my fingers are sore and my voice is too.”

You’ll say, “It’s really good to see you.”
You’ll say, “I missed you horribly.”
You’ll say, “Let me carry that. Give that to me.”

And you will take the heavy stuff.
And you will drive the car.
And I’ll look out the window,
and make jokes about the way things are.

How can I go home with nothing to say?
I know you’re going to look at me that way,
And say, “What did you do out there?
What did you decide?
You said you needed time,
And you had time.

You had time.
You had time.
You had time.”

Other songs that remind me of Boston for obvious reasons include Augustana’s “Boston;” Vampire Weekend’s “Boston,” “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa,” and “Walcott;” but Augustana’s “Boston” is too much of a torch anthem to take seriously, and VW songs are upbeat, which makes me dance, so I’m not homesick until the end.

Homesickness is so odd. Mostly, it’s just the displaced feeling, this feeling that translates to a steadfast belief that I don’t live anywhere, which is mostly low-grade and ignorable, but then it overwhelms me and I feel simultaneously stir crazy and sad.

Part of the reason the Ben Harper song gets to me so much is that I’ve left Boston twice now for the purposes of higher education. I was gone for a little over two years the first time. Then I went home and it was great, but things got out of hand, and I was working five jobs, which was exhausting and awful. So I left again. And, again, it’s in in the name of self-improvement. I’m obsessed with the idea that I need to be “good enough” to live in this place where I’ve already spent seven years of my life. Seven good, solid years. But also seven busy years, during which I worked, often for free, and didn’t get to write as often as I wanted.

So, what if I go back and nothing changes?

I just want to feel like I’m in the right place.

Full disclosure: I want other things too, but this affects my ability to focus on anything—work for myself, work for other people—so figuring this out would be beneficial.

More disclosure: This semester has been one of the worst I’ve had since middle school. And even though it was a very long time ago, I still remember distinctly how awful middle school was.

I’m rambling, which is my cue to post this before I delete it.

Mar 26, 2014

6 notes
Using @proust_app to write short stories. So far, I’ve written this, rearranged it, and sent it to four other writers to rearrange. Randolph Pfaff and Colin O’Day have responded. None of us told the story the same way. Is this the first interactive literary video game? #lit #fiction #prose

Using @proust_app to write short stories. So far, I’ve written this, rearranged it, and sent it to four other writers to rearrange. Randolph Pfaff and Colin O’Day have responded. None of us told the story the same way. Is this the first interactive literary video game? #lit #fiction #prose

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