Sex, Frogs, and the New Political Order
“If you opened me up you would find no redness, no veins, only a political thunderstorm.”
You look like you’d be a compassionate lover.
Is this the mountains episode?That glacier is my vagina
in flagrante delicto.
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When I search for my father, I feel his numbers. Here’s a house number on my friend’s street that mimics the first few digits of my father’s phone. Here, at the 7/11, my receipt totals the amount of the last four digits of his SSN.
When Americans consume media that privileges white survival, what does it mean for which disasters earn our attention, our money, our likes, our grief?
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On the day when two pink lines stared up at me, I wondered which set of events I had set in motion. A baby? Or not a baby?