Notes on various pieces from the anthology, as written by Stephanie Anderson, Eleanor Ball, Haley Bossé, Qetsi’ah Joachim-Baggott, and nat raum.
nr: “Mother Remove This Cup From Me” by Elena Sichrovsky (anthology
cover) is the kind of photograph that makes me fall in love—over and over again—with queer portraiture. the decisive moment feels candid, placid in its capture of three constantly changing variables: the soft sun, the lush vegetation, and the queering of body language.
HB: Tara Labovich’s “girl, possessed!” deftly weaves the otherworldly with the everyday. With equal parts humor and depth, the language of this poem compounds on itself to gesture at experiences deeply personal, as well as universal and unknown. In short, I have a crush on this poem. I’m worried this poem gave me a tape worm. I want this poem to keep taking me wherever it wants to go.
EB: When I finished reading “The American Eel” by Mark Spero, I
sat back and thought “Wow . . . I will never read something like this again.” This piece earns every one of its lines and sustains its momentum over four pages of unbroken poetry, which is no small feat. Spero’s work is delightfully playful, fresh, and incisive.
nr: i was immediately drawn in by the sureness of voice in the very first line of “Garden Sonnet” by Annalisa Hansford. the poet continues from
there, delivering knockout after knockout and eventually wrapping this short but decisive sonnet up with a statement that lingers in the air long after i finish reading.
QJB: Chi Pham’s “Man Spelt Backwards” is a heartachingly beautiful
piece of queer fiction, with a blunt and open sense of identity. Honest, clear and crushing, I remember reading it many times over during the selection process, enamoured with the story, letting the words wash over me time after time.
SMA: This piece is hard to read. Read it gently. In “Best Western,” C Ray Borck fills in only the details needed and no more to deftly stack
nostalgia and fear, and it sticks the landing.
EB: “Rejoice in His Name” by Finnian Burnett is a poignant Christmas story about the complex relationships queer people often have with faith, family, and holiday expectations. After reading this last December, I carried Jayden and Jake’s story with me through a uniquely difficult holiday season. Burnett’s complex character work and vivid scene-setting shine brilliantly in this gem of a story.
SMA: “worm girlfriend reprise” by Katy Haas is a whimsical sentence-level delight, and is the piece from this reading period that I sent to friends the most. It’s a fun play on the commonly-known joke, yes, but it’s also chewing itself away, self-sacrificing in the name of love, unsettlingly sweet, comfortably uncomfortable, as if devotion is always meant to ache.
Thank you for reading, and for supporting queer literature and artwork.