A reflection on the evolution of my poetry.
How my dirty laundry changed the way I wrote and made me fall in love with poetry.
In high school art class, my teacher asked us to bring an old book to class. I picked up an old coin guide for collecters for a buck. If we were bringing a book to art class, it probably wasn’t going to last long. She was about to open the door to a new kind…
A review of the lit mag for artificial intelligence.