Month: November 2020

Instruments: Racism

Reading Time: 9 minutes I fell in love with the internet when I discovered that everything was essentially under everyone’s control. Wikipedia, assignment go-to until it became a sleighted source. Over the past few years, I’ve racked up a thousand Wikipedia edits: not major article changes, no special permissions, no work on authoring new articles (aside from contributing to Tagalizing articles to Wikipediang Tagalog; which generally repurposes existing articles). A selection of my Wikipedia Userboxes Wikipedia is one of the last bastions of the internet for socially acceptable pseudointellectualism. One of my favorite forms this takes place in is when grown adults address themselves in hyperspecific stamps called “Userboxes” on their Userpages (Wikipedia’s version of profile pages), usually to address their editing quirks. Think debates over usage of the Oxford comma, who can speak more languages, infinitive usage, nativity, and 2000s-esque criticism of to/too/two usage. My page is free of complaints for now; Userpages, like articles, are editable by any user. Instead, it’s customized with boxes that encapsulate my being at 20 and look my Myspace page at 12: …


Reading Time: < 1 minute Everything I write for youan elegy. The Mother of Exilewatched: She knows how far Imay get. Bodies survive without waterfor up to three days. So whenyou left me skinsearching there,rearing to feel a pulse, you cameto find the chest engorged. It smelled like wax and scarcity. In another era, only the bloodboiled counts. So surrender quietly.Watch me undo the nerve-tears,the fold, the thicket, the languageof pleading. We’re past consequence. Just last year, we exchanged an actof penitence. I grazed my ribs inelastic and then you shaved all layerssecond-before-blood. Constancy demandsus to reclaim even the minute conditions of our birth. So I have you. However so temporary. After the Actour tissue stiffens. I breathe outthe purge. No secret of povertyremains, as Mother calls thiskeenness out. Your fingers left hung by the trestle. Your vessel down thenorthern hemisphere. Even the shallowestparts of you may never come incarnate again.