One of your selves is dying – to tell their story. See what you can do to help. Sit with your bare feet on the ground. Breathe five deep belly breaths. Cross your right ankle over your left knee. Scratch the sole of your foot. Where do you feel it? Does it leave marks? Repeat on your left side. What happened to you? Make it. Refrain from using the letters T R U M or P.
6 - Emanuela Bandol
5 - Mark Bowers
4 - lw
3 - Brian Vernor
2 - bvonhoene
1 - ic
6 - Inaugural Workout
5 - Where Corn Don't Grow
relevant part of the US Code of Laws regarding how to fly the flag when in distress: THE UNITED STATES FLAG CODE. Title 4, Chapter 1. § 8(a)The flag should never be displayed with the union down, except as a signal of dire distress in instances of extreme danger to life or property.
4 - #nastywoman: the anatomy of our crowns
we are tender
rockets burning clover
& hyssop through our abdomens
feral princesses wild & nasty
all the women (in all the world)
are all the rape victims
of my dreams (in my dreams)
on the other side (of a table trying)
to a nodding
our vaginas are not damsels in distress
they mouth the word souf with an f
& sing the triumphant blues
licking our pre-wounds before they ooze
pinning up our heart-centers
to push our shoulders back
singing the aria
& holding all the damaged
3 - photo/caption
The world is a whirling fucking mess right now. I go out on a bike to feel stillness. I want to make photos that reflect that overwhelming dual experience of disbelief and great calm, combine the two somehow. Los Angeles is the epitome of this storm, humanity completely reveling in its fucked up possibility, humanity making the greatest art and expressions of hope. What are we going to do? I can't stop loving the simple joy of a bike ride, even when I know well it is just my own experience, impotent in changing a damn thing other than my own temporary disposition. I have to get away but I have to remain. We are obligated to be greater than ever. 2017?
2 - post-op
_his oedipal _o_he_ f_cking shi_ f_ck f_cking f_ck. i_’s always _he sa_e _o_he_ f_cking
c_n_ s_o_y. s_ove shi_ in_o bodies. shi_ wi_h pa__s of shi_. g_ab
b_ea_h, gas_ for __ssy. agains_ _he wall like a _o_he_f_cke_. like an o_ange c_ck
wi_h a s_ile, a little boy hai_ c__. his _o__h an o, a flaccid balloon, kno_, always
sea_ching fo_ a _o_he_ f_cking _ea_.
he leaves a nas_y f_ck __ail of c___bs. so _he wi_ches in the woods f_cking die.
he_lock in _hei_ sal_on-colo_ed _h_oa_s. in _hei_ _o_he_ f_cking g_lle_s. sli_, hang,
c_awl along c_eek beds. the_e a_e child_en. _he child_en fo__ a god
da_n wall a_o_nd _he wi_ch bodies. s_ones. we_ oak leaves. __os__a_e
befo_e _he _o_he_ face f_cking sky.
1 - No - - - - -
He lied by way of his own head
& we lay slain no owning the fall
1000 lie(s) in
a locked box
Blew walls no flow no oxygen
missed blood, boiling and elsewise
Chaffed in bloody shoes
Cold in his naked shade
Who is sense? And when?