Sure, call your reps, see if they answer the phone. But, first, call and email Visa, Mastercard, PayPal, and Stripe. Tell them, respectfully, those customer service folks didn't do shit to you, what you want and what you will do if you don't get it.

Stop letting white suprematists and Nazis decide what artist is allowed to eat or have a roof over her head because making a phone call or writing an email is hard.

Yeah, it was the Fibonacci sequence.

Apologies, this was supposed to be out a few days ago but between a therapist mandated grieving day and a date; well, explaining my poetry rules sort of fell by the wayside.

While Oh Sweetest Succor might be the gayest poem I ever wrote, I think this might be the most… rhetorically and politically vitriolic, even including that one I wrote about how First They Came was written by a fucking Nazi white washing his own history.

Besides that… well I think it speaks for itself.

Cultivar is one of my favorite words ok? I didn't mean to use it in two poems in a row, but it was that or use what will be the final piece in between and… well I guess it and this are both… heavy at best.

There we go, made it to the final of the three poems I wrote together. To Be… What? and Joy certainly had a different vibe. Apparently that’s what happens when I’m inexplicably inspired to write weird number sequence poetry while watching my girlfriend/mate/handler and her friend play DDR.

I did say I was interrogating some heavy shit and especially dog/puppygirl idiosyncrasies. I don’t want to talk too much about this one, as I fear speaking to my intent or perspective would read as prescriptive. So I leave you to contemplate.

Yes, I saved the extremely lesbian poem as my opener for the final day of my silly Pride poetry project. A lot of my other final day poems are going to be heavy, complex, or are directly interrogating some of my own, seemingly universal, dog girl idiosyncrasies.

I’ll be honest, this one was an attempt to be cute, but ended up with something kind of heavy. I really shouldn’t be able to make something this harsh when my seed word was “fib” but I ended up sort of fixating on the banal ways the lies of those with power are framed.

Fuck. I’m not really ready to talk about this one, but I should anyway.

I said in the To Be…What?’s write up that I wrote it, Joy, and one of tomorrow’s poems simultaneously and that they were the first three I wrote intentionally using the number sequence I built this little project around, but they weren’t the first poems written. That dubious honor goes to Anxiety here.

If I remember correctly, this was the first of the poems I wrote with the intent of using the number sequence as a through line. I wrote Anxiety, which will be out later today, first, but there it was, well, what am I saying, you can read a ramble about that poem in like an hour and some.

Today’s poems are probably the most or second most un-subtle ones when it comes to my silly numerical theming. Best of luck!

Would you believe I wrote this while staring at an ant colony in my yard? Probably. I mean I did either way, but I’m still curious if you believe me.

My original plan was to explain the connecting theme of the poems I’ll be posting over the next 5 days on a sort-of-day 0. However, I’m going through some shit and decided I liked the idea of posting them then explaining to see if anyone can spot it for themselves.

How do they keep getting away with this?!
User Not Found is the story of a useless lesbian in a hopeless world carving out a little bit of hope, not just for themselves, but for all ‘transgressives’ by Dani Finn.

Dani has this peculiar ability to paint vibrant and morbid canvases with their words, then has the fucking gall to leave me feeling hopeful

Note to self: don't soft announce a silly pride project, a poetry project, AND let the Steam Next Fest consume your brain all at once.

The Mermaid from Frigid Harbor scratches my Dresden Files itch; replacing the chauvinism with lesbians, an adhd monsterfuckee, and a dapper sea otter. 

In other words, it was made for me.

Jade Evergreen and the Perils of Polybius is a fun, hopeful love letter to the girlhood denied many trans women. It's $2. Get it or risk being hit by a van.