In Defense of the Low Bar: An Ode to Everclear
Kurt Cobain would not approve, but privately I wondered if there wasn’t space for a beloved burnished thing in my new and improved pop pantheon.
Tragic KingdomEnema of the State
So Much for the AfterglowSparkle and Fade
I am still living with your . . . ghost,
Don’t worry, that’s just my heroPlus, I'm pretty sure if he met me in real life, we’d fall in love.
You do what they tell you to do/you say what they say/you try to be everything to everyoneI will never be safe, I will never be sane, I will always be weird inside, I will always be lame.was
wrongwrong“it wasn’t easy for me to be a scared white boy in a black neighborhood.”
Brittany K. Allen is a New York-based writer, performer and library goblin. Her short fiction and essays have been published on The Toast, The Tishman Review, and Green Mountains Review, among other places. Her plays have been heard or developed at The Lark, Ars Nova, and Ensemble Studio Theatre, among other other places. She's a proud member of Youngblood, the award-winning young playwrights collective at Ensemble Studio Theatre.
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Brittany K. Allen
You have been added to the notification list for author Brittany K. Allen
More by this author
Both church and theatre demand from their followers the suspension of disbelief, and the ability to inhabit an imaginary set of circumstances in lieu of the known.
I witnessed how easily art might braid to politics, how easily fellowship might inspire movement.
More in this series
Because it’s still more acceptable for white women than it is for women of color to show anger, I scream-sing along to Courtney Love’s rage.
The release of "Infinity on High" marked the final moments of the mid-2000s, a time when collapse nested on the tongues of everyone in my universe but never made it out of their mouths.
To cope with pain, and prepare for parenthood, I had to learn how to breathe. To breathe, I needed more than air.