revisionist herstory
Good morning friends, I am happy to report that my poem If John Muir Were a Girl was recently published in the Fairy Tales Summer 2020 edition of Alaska Women Speak. Thanks for reading!
Yesterday I took a slow, needed walk in the woods. It was slow because my eight-year-old walked behind me drinking his apple cider the whole way. (That was the only way I was able to get him to walk in the woods with me.) It was much needed, because I have been dealing with all …
Goodday mateys! I'm excited to announce that my essay Alaska on Fire was published in the latest issue of the Hellebore, Black Moss. An acquaintance called it an "insightful, well-written piece on last summer’s wildfires, budget destruction and the Tlingit idea of shukalxs uxs’— where the end is called back to the beginning". You can …
Continue reading "My essay “Alaska On Fire” is now on The Hellebore"
You can imagine my delight when Plumtree tavern literary magazine sent me an email to tell me that they included my poem as one of the selected favorites from the past year. And lo and behold, mine was listed first! I wrote this poem during a walk on one of the coldest, driest days of …
Continue reading "Plum Tree Tavern literary mag shares some of their favorites"
At the edge of the gumdrop forest waits a door to swallow her whole deep, deeper down the rabbit hole she hopes to lose her mind or find her soul or a better way back than before. Perhaps chance upon a homeless camp tarp and dust pan, flash backs to that woman & those men …
Oh my gosh you guys, I don’t usually talk like a valley girl, but when I do it’s because I am immensely impressed. The latest edition to come out of University of Alaska Southeast, Tidal Echoes 2020 is the most stunning literary magazine I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. Leafing through the gorgeous prose …
Continue reading "Tidal Echoes 2020 edition makes for the perfect quarantine reading"
One out of seven jobless, Venezuela size statistics, but the Tongass is alive, listen— the wilderness so thick, I could lean into this. No helicopters to spoil, and there’s a part of me that likes to do hard things— like fool myself into jumping off this cliff sixty feet into the drink, …
A devil's club graveyard all that remains, bones of a mighty clubbed fortress reduced to small brown skeletons, silent, still scaffolds of what once was. This is how you say madrugada in English– the coldest, darkest, undead hour when spirits roam the earth, right before the first snow: the rainforest so dry and quiet bones and shapes, negative space, …
Because she is of the wilderness, why shouldn’t the rhythm of a thousand hustling feet induce her to run through TSA? Because when riding an escalator, why shouldn’t she wait for the prettiest step, although it may mean losing Mommy who has alteady gone ahead and landing spread eagle upside down between five metal moving …
Nature in tandem, aiding and abetting,Waves smooth as the bodies that chase them,Perfect symmetry drawn in ocean combers,And all there is is this moment.Diet of fish and fruit rendered my body spacious,Boneless like a jellyfish,Flesh swimming in skin sun-kissed,Mermaid hair blonde, waving,One with the water, anticipating,Interpreting the swell,Hop up on the board and let nature …
