iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

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The Slowdown @slowdownshow.org · 18/09/2026

“Today’s poem is a celebration of creatures we tend to overlook or even disdain. It invites us to reconsider our perspective,” shares @maggiesmithpoet.bsky.social in today’s encore episode. Read “I Find Myself Defending Pigeons” by Keith S. Wilson: bit.ly/4AhN3XG 📖: @coppercanyonpress.bsky.social

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Simeon Berry @simeonberry.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

(42/61) “You are no one’s enigma / or experiment.” —Amy M. Alvarez, “How to Date a White Boy” (Makeshift Altar) @kentuckypress.bsky.social #61WomenPoets #WOC #61Books61Days #TheSealeyChallenge #SeptWomenPoets

The cover of Amy M. Alvarez’s Makeshift Altar: a photograph of an alter with black African mask, two small golden bowls, gold chains, and a headdress of black plants, white feathers, and red roses, against a pink background.

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Katie Campbell, KUOW @katiecampbell.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

Now I am become meeting, the destroyer of spirits.

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Poetry Foundation @poetry.foundation · 10/09/2026

The Poetry Foundation is proud to announce the recipients of the 2026 Pegasus Awards! 🎉 Robert Pinsky 🎉 Nikki Grimes 🎉 Luis Javier Rodríguez 🎉 Meg Day 🎉 Jason Schneiderman For more details, visit our website bit.ly/4x9ME6N Congratulations to this year's honorees!

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Paul Hlava Ceballos @paulhlava.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

Congrats to Meg Day for winning the Pegasus Poetry Book Prize! 🏆 I am on pins & needles to read Sound Lasso, much love ❤️ Also I am the one finalist, which is exciting—my own book is close! 😊 Thank you judges, thank you poetryfoundation & Graywolf & congrats to the winners 🙏

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 01/09/2026

today’s #twopageplustuesday in memory of Wendell Berry — “This work of love rhymes / living and dead.” 🐎

Horses
When I was a boy here,
traveling the fields for pleasure, the farms were worked with teams.
As late as then a teamster
was thought an accomplished man, his art an essential discipline.
A boy learned it by delight as he learned to use his body, following the example of men. The reins of a team were put into my hands
when I thought the work was play.
And in the corrective gaze of men now dead I learned to flesh my will in power great enough to kill me should I let it turn.
I learned the other tongue by which men spoke to beasts
—all its terms and tones.
And by the time I learned, new ways had changed the time.

The tractors came. The horses stood in the fields, keepsakes, grew old, and died. Or were sold as dogmeat. Our minds received the revolution of engines, our will stretched toward the numb endurance of metal. And that old speech by which we magnified our flesh in other flesh fell dead in our mouths.
The songs of the world died in our ears as we went within the uproar of the long syllable of the motors. Our intent entered the world as combustion.
Like our travels, our workdays burned upon the world, lifting its inwards up in fire. Veiled in that power our minds gave up the endless cycle of growth and decay and took the unreturning way, the breathless distance of iron.
But that work, empowered by burning the world's body, showed us finally the world's limits and our own. We had then the life of a candle, no longer the ever-returning song
among the grassblades and the leaves.
Did I never forget?
Or did I, after years, remember? To hear that song again, though brokenly in the distances of memory,

is coming home. I came to a farm, some of it unreachable by machines, as some of the world will always be. And so I came to a team, a pair
of mares—sorrels, with white tails and manes, beautiful!— to keep my sloping fields.
Going behind them, the reins tight over their backs as they stepped their long strides, revived again on my tongue the cries of dead men in the living fields. Now every move answers what is still.
This work of love rhymes living and dead. A dance is what this plodding is.
A song, whatever is said.

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Stacey Burns @wentrogue.bsky.social · 27/08/2026

Jennifer Nelson’s entry to this year’s Minnesota State Fair crop art

A localized version of Guernica with a loon at the center and a person holding an ICE OUT sign

“My piece was inspired by Picasso's Guernica, a work that was his response to the Nazi's bombing of the Basque town. I thought there was a fitting parallel between these incidents about the high price paid by ordinary people when aggressive regimes try out new tactics of war, as well as a fitting juxtaposition of the darkness of living such an experience and the light we shone through it in our own resistance and care for one another. The patterns near Renee Good and Alex Pretti’s mouths are actually their last words in Morse code: ‘I’m not mad at you,’ and ‘Are you okay?’”

Jennifer Nelson

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Pearl Pirie @pearlpoet.bsky.social · 15/08/2026

#TodaysPoem by Kabir, trans by Arvind Krishna Mehrotra

It take a man that have the blues so to sing the blues.
—Leadbelly
O pundit, your hairsplitting's So much bullshit. I'm surprised You still get away with it.
If parroting the name Of Rama brought salvation,
Then saying sugarcane
Should sweeten the mouth, Saying fire burn the feet, Saying water slake thirst, And saying food
Would be as good as a belch.
If saying money made everyone rich, There'd be no beggars in the streets.
My back is turned on the world,
You hear me singing of Rama and you smile.
One day, Kabir says,
All bundled up,
You'll be delivered to Deathville.
KG 179

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Brandon Menke @bamenke.bsky.social · 27/08/2026

Hey hey hey! Check out this smart, savvy, and positively glowing review of @franciscondine.bsky.social's brilliant COALITION LITERATURE (Stanford UP, 2025) by Grace Tierney up now at @asapjournal.bsky.social. It's front and center—you can't miss it! 🧡

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Dr. Han VanderHart @hanvanderhart.bsky.social · 07/08/2026

You can read “Charm Before Sleeping” alongside poems from Muriel Rukeyser and Jean Valentine! www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazi...

Full text of Martha Zweig’s poem:

CHARM BEFORE SLEEPING

You are of my species
Against the ocean's inroads
Upon the ringed kingdom
Of recognition: among all
Mixed daily things I know you.

Whatever the dreams do, may
The constant bodily keeping
Involving us now within
The waking coincidence
Maintain you nearby, while we

And all who have held tight
Relax to sleep, and through these hours,
Difficult to remember, when death will
Undo each double helix and
Comb the loose strands, like the sea.

Poetry magazine from January 1968. Dark blue or black, classic Pegasus, and the text:

POETRY
VOLUME 111 NUMBER 4
JANUARY 1968
MARK VAN DOREN
Slouly, Slowly Wisdom Gatlers
JEAN VALENTINE
Three Poans
VERNON WATKINS
Gremydycinu Elegiacs
MURIEL RUKEYSER
Delta Poems
TURNER CASSITY • MARGARET RANDALL
DAVID MUS • FREDERIC WILL • DABNEY STUART MARJORIE HUNT • MARTHA MAc NEAL ZWEIG DAVID ROSENTHAL •KATHLEEN SPIVACK
LISEL MUELLER on GARY SNYDER FREDERIC WILL on ROBERT CREELEY TOM CLARK on EDWIN DENBY RICHARD MOORE on WILLIAM BLAKE WILLIAM HUNT Poetry Without Letters
MARVIN BELL Four Anthologies

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Simeon Berry @simeonberry.bsky.social · 06/08/2026

(6/61) “after you died / I remembered / Odysseus / and his bowl of blood / so he could speak / to his mother” — @estherwslin.bsky.social, “Up the Mountains Down the Fields” (Cold Thief Place) @alicejamesbooks.bsky.social #61WomenPoets #WOC #61Books61Days #TheSealeyChallenge #SeptWomenPoets

The cover of Esther Lin’s Cold Thief Place: a painting of a hand with multiple gold rings folded over another hand against a black background

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Ben Niespodziany 📚🎪 @neonpajamas.bsky.social · 27/07/2026

a poem of mine is now up on Penn State's website

Simply Following Instructions

Simply
following
corporate
instructions
I dump
stuff
into
the machine.

We need
more stuff,
my boss yells,
dumped
into the machine.

He looks at me
and when I do not
respond quickly enough,
he throws me
into the machine.

I'm honored,
really, but I
barely
move
the needle.
The machine
needs
more.

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The Slowdown @slowdownshow.org · 23/07/2026

"When the words themselves are lost, so much can be lost with it: oral histories, traditions, and unique perspectives," @maggiesmithpoet.bsky.social shares in episode 1565. Read “bilingual” by @mrmack88.bsky.social from SIPÈSTISYON: bit.ly/44Om9Z1 📖: @@yesyesbooks.bsky.social

graphic featuring a portion of Mckendy Fils-Aime's poem

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Chelsea Dingman @chelsdingman.bsky.social · 01/07/2026

My new poem is up at The Los Angeles Review this week:

The Face-to-Face Encounter by Chelsea Dingman
Twenty minutes away from this house is a house without rooms and cabinets and foal-dark carpeting and a woman who wears my mother's face to clean the dishes and the linoleum floors and the delicate white lace underclothes
that she wears on special occasions and the problem of loneliness in the form of a crawlspace. In some ways, I lost my mother when my father died. Before the house was gutted. Before someone changed the locks. Before she began disappearing in front of me, like her
mother, as I told her about my day from the kitchen
doorway. Sometimes, I think writers are just
people who weren't listened to as children, and so remain strange everywhere but in language. Sometimes, when I say mother I'm speaking about my father. I'm trying to figure out what I owe a future where 1 am not, and that is different. My grandmother,
in the years before she died, endured the slow siphoning of her mind. How sad but maybe kind, I'd thought, not to remember being cruel or rash, nor the cratered body in the bathroom mirror, Christmas
baking and days out by the lake, playing gin
rummy or solitaire, knowing that she was dying, that she would die in a strange room in her mind. In a care facility, how fast she forgot
to feed herself, the names for her children. Their faces. Is one life
exchanged for another when one retires, or might retiring be
how one turns away from a life, from aging, from aphasia, from winter's slag? My mother picks my daughter up from school
every Thursday. Early retirement she took after her mother died and her partner retired. I wish we were closer, but I don't say that. I wish I'd let her know me instead of what she imagines
of me. My young sons left home this year to imagine a life
apart from mine, which is all I've wanted for them amid the waiting mothering amounts to. The indignity of days where they are not not breathing or eating or fighting now I face. The presence of their absences, deathless as a dream I…

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StoryStudio Chicago @storystudiochicago.bsky.social · 02/07/2026

Even magic must have a few rules! 🪄🔮 In this four-session online workshop with @ruthjoffre.bsky.social, learn how about magic and how it can shape your story. Starts August 4. Register now! buff.ly/JCecaCn #writingcommunity

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Dr. Han VanderHart @hanvanderhart.bsky.social · 09/06/2026

I do not struggle with the poem, but with my own attentions. —@robmclennan.bsky.social

4.
I do not struggle with the poem,
but with my own attentions.

Valzhyna Mort: Sometimes our words can cut meat
The back of fire, curved. From one language

to another. I slip out, step away. The outdoor view, so Alta Vista smooth. Cars trundle, bus.

And for a spell,
all else is quiet.

12

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Ryan Packer @typewriteralley.bsky.social · 03/06/2026

Holy shit. (From Reddit)

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Cory Oldweiler @coryoldweiler.bsky.social · 26/05/2026

For @lareviewofbooks.bsky.social I wrote about Mónica Ojeda’s latest, ELECTRIC SHAMANS AT THE FESTIVAL OF THE SUN, trans. by Sarah Booker, a rewarding if elusive novel of spiritual awakening that draws heavily on myths and traditions of several Indigenous Andean cultures.

lareviewofbooks.org

A Life Less Governed by Death | Los Angeles Review of Books

Ecuadoran author Mónica Ojeda’s new novel is a celebration of the transfiguring power of dance, music, and neo-shamanistic knowledge.

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cantomundo.bsky.social @cantomundo.bsky.social · 28/05/2026

Tick tock! The countdown is on—submissions for the CantoMundo Chapbook Prize close May 30th. Level up your poetry and seize this opportunity to be published and translated. Submit now!

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Paul Hlava Ceballos @paulhlava.bsky.social · 28/05/2026

“and snakes / shed sheathes are hollow as music” Now, with AI and the dismantling of the NEA, etc, I am thinking how our call as artists is to make something beautiful against “state art”

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phillip crymble @phillipcrymble.bsky.social · 21/05/2026

A favorite poem by Robert Creeley, on this, the day of his centenary.

OLD SONG

Take off your clothes, love,
And come to me.

Soon will the sun be breaking
Over yon sea.

And all of our hairs be white, love,
For aught we do

And all our nights be one, love,
For all we knew.

ROBERT CREELEY

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 22/05/2026

happy birthday Robert Creeley 🎈

Sit. Eat
a doughnut.

Love’s consistency
favors me.

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The Needling @theneedling.com · 22/05/2026

Millionaires Tax Payers Assured They Only Need to Cut Back on Lattes to Afford Fifth Home: tinyurl.com/3mjbuhy9

Stressed out man looking over budget on laptop near a pool in a luxury home's back yard on a beautiful evening

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Keith S. Wilson @keithwilsonpoet.bsky.social · 08/05/2026

Check out this brilliant writing about my book Games for Children by Noah Warren in the latest Cleveland Review of Books. None of my screenshots give it justice: clereviewofbooks.com/poetry-and-t...

Photo of Games for Children, Rock Flight, and the other books mentioned in this essay.

Keith Wilson: if (form===trap)

Keith Wilson's background in game design is reflected in Games for Children's flowcharts, matrices, and rogue sine waves. As such, the algorithm, for Wilson, signifies as a tangible series of operations and
logical moves, not as a mystified code. Indeed, the book functions as a primer in learning to think like a machine, prompting the reader through nested binary conditions toward aporia that reflect on the
conditions of American subjectivity.

The simultaneity of vacuousness and motion seems to be the point. Inherent in the diagrammatic form is the argument that
experience is ultimately diagrammable, permutations of a few variables, a repetitive paint-by-numbers affair.

The disorientation of encountering a poem that looks like this, and then trying to locate ourselves in its centripetal space, is its central emotional fact.

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Divider Decider 👩🏻‍⚖️🌊⚖️(Renee GOOD, ICE BAD) @dividerdecider.bsky.social · 05/05/2026

Uniter Anti #MetGala ✨ @riseandresist.bsky.social ✨ @seiupres.bsky.social’s Ball without Billionaires Mary Hill: “Most of my co-workers work 2 jobs. Why is that, when we work for 1 of the richest people in America?” 📸Dave Sanders; SEIU www.nytimes.com/live/2026/05... www.nytimes.com/2026/05/04/s...

Rise and Resist’s “Resistance Red Carpet” woman in black tee shirt with Climate Emergency postered dress holding a red sign saying, “Bezos Greenwashes his Clinate Crimes” Photo Dave Sanders/NY Times

Woman in pink dress with a tussle holster and a Quiet Piggy flower hat on the Resistance Red Carpet. Photo Dave Sanders/NY Times

Woman wearing an Eat the Rich hat, blue feather jacket and green sequin dress on the Resistance Red Carpet. Photo Dave Sanders/NY Times

Mary Hill, a 72-year-old Amazon warehouse worker from Raleigh, N.C., walked the runway dressed in burgundy pants with flowers and navy blue jacket outfit by Labyrinthave. Photo: the Service Employees International Union

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MOYA 🍒🎧🌙| Fujo in a Lab Coat ™ | HAPPY SPOOKTOBER @moyaoyaoya.bsky.social · 05/05/2026

Even tho the looks are nice at the met gala pls talk about the workers rights protest that’s happening rn ahead of the met gala! “Ball without Billionaires”!! Spread the word!!

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Martin Rock @infinite-scroll.bsky.social · 16/04/2026

@pshares.bsky.social was the first #litmag I read as an undergrad and it continues to be one of the best in the country. It was a privilege to spend time in the archives, and I'm so proud of this piece. Thanks to @jennymolberg.bsky.social @weslpress.bsky.social @unsung-masters.bsky.social

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The Slowdown @slowdownshow.org · 23/04/2026

"Sometimes I swear I can hear the form of a poem if I listen carefully," @maggiesmithpoet.bsky.social shares in episode 1500 of The Slowdown. Read "You believed only a girl born of a dandelion can be ferocious" by @purvipoets.bsky.social and our full episode transcript: bit.ly/4vLJ8jH

graphic featuring a portion of Purvi Shah's poem, which can be found in full at the link in the post

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Free DC @freedcproject.bsky.social · 01/05/2026

BREAKING: Activists have shut down multiple intersections throughout downtown Washington DC in opposition to Trump's attacks on workers, DC Home Rule, climate, and international peace. The actions kick off #MayDay events across the country.

Activists hold a banner across an intersection that reads "Fight Fascism, Free DC"

Activists hold a banner across a street that reads "Healthcarae not warfare." Additional signs read "No War, No ICE, Free Palestine" and "No War for Israel," and "No War on Iran."

Activists hold a large banner across a street that reads "Fund People & Planet NOT WAR" and "Free Palestine, Free DC, Free Us All!"

Activists hold a banner across an intersection with the U.S. Capitol in the background. Banner reads "Workers Over Billionaires"

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Hamilton Cain @hamiltoncain.bsky.social · 02/04/2026

Happy April, bibliophiles! Here's my "something for everyone" basket of new books, compliments of TIME: time.com/article/2026...

time.com

The 12 New Books You Should Read in April

From 'Yesteryear' to 'Transcription,' these are the can't-miss books coming out this month

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David Naimon @davidnaimon.bsky.social · 27/04/2026

Hey, it's my birthday today and I'd love to hear what your favorite episode of the show is, and/or who in the world you'd most want to hear on the show going forward. Share a link of the conversation that is most unforgettable to you. Here's one of mine to start it off: milkweed.org/between-the-...

milkweed.org

Dionne Brand : Nomenclature — New and Collected Poems | Milkweed Editions

Today’s guest Dionne Brand, to borrow the words of John Keene, “is without question one of the major living poets in the English language.” Kamau Brathwaite called Brand “our first major exile female ...

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Maggie Harrison Dupré @mharrisondupre.bsky.social · 15/04/2026

NEW: A new pre-print study offers the first causal evidence that outsourcing reasoning tasks to AI can rapidly erode users' independent performance AND their will to persist despite difficulty. "People’s persistence drops... they’re also not willing to try without AI.” futurism.com/artificial-i...

futurism.com

AI Use Appears to Have a "Boiling Frog" Effect on Human Cognition, New Study Warns

A new study claims to offer the first causal link between AI dependency and cognitive erosion. Researchers warn of long-term implications.

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Seth Cotlar @sethcotlar.bsky.social · 13/04/2026

The same week the NYTimes was devoting its significant resources to producing this ridiculous piece about Lauren Sanchez Bezos's call for rich people to not worry and be happy, Ryan Hass, an independent journalist in Oregon, was investigating this horrifying story about a death in an Amazon plant.

Someone Has to Be Happy. Why Not Lauren Sánchez Bezos?
As half of an unfathomably powerful couple, Mrs. Sánchez Bezos seems to have influenced the uber-rich to stop apologizing, and start enjoying themselves.

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Tom Snarsky @tomsnarsky.bsky.social · 08/04/2026

Omar Cáceres, tr. Mónica de la Torre

Song for the Fugitive

Banging th’sharp goal with their monotonous shield, there are,
since you left, ten souls at your visage;
shatter that immediate sky, linear, so that your life may be joined
and give me, oh fugitive, the last oasis of that journey, your bare
steps on the only path and the closed sun
that washes away that wise land’s sorrow, your acrid forehead, give me
the only sense that is there to speak
and we will be together AL-
ways!

Canción al Prófugo

Golpeando l’aguda meta con su escudo monótono, hay,
desde que tú te fuiste, diez almas en tu porte;
rompe ese cielo inmediato, lineal, para que se junte tu vida
y dame, oh prófugo, el último oasis de ese viaje, tus pasos
desnudos por el camino único y el sol cerrado
que lava la pena de esa tierra sabia, tu frente ácida, dame
el solo sentido que ahí existe para hablar
y estaremos juntos SIEM-
pre!

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Jose Hernandez Diaz @josehernandezdz.bsky.social · 01/04/2026

"Conspiracy" by James Tate

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james o @jamesolearypoet.bsky.social · 30/03/2026

“you unwelcome god, at the / zenith of my pleasure, you are there.” Ally Ang @theoceanisgay.bsky.social

At the apex of night, limbs splayed across the too-small
bed, I allow my hands to wander towards the heat of my
cunt, desire sharp and pulsing. Beneath the shawl of
darkness, I shape my flesh like a block of clay, all its
excess overflowing onto the sheets. The smooth
flat landscape of my chest ballooning with breath, teeth
grinding like derelict machinery. In the slick heat of
here, I become my self: an embodiment of purest
instinct. The scent of my want intoxicating enough to
justify its undoing. Before I even knew my body, I
knew its catalogue of disgrace: the insatiable blood-
lust, the propensity for leakage. O shame,
my familiar shadow, undress me with your
needy mouth, your gnarled fingers. I am
open and waiting for you to make a
private spectacle of me. Do you hear it, the
quickening of my heart? The volatile
rhythm of unrepentant rapture, my insides
spilling onto the carpet like a pool of mercury.
Tired of all these selfish lovers, I
undulate my hips under my
voracious hand, wet and shining
with want, unfurling like a
xeranthemum inside me. O shame,
you unwelcome god, at the
zenith of my pleasure, you are there.

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Dr. Han VanderHart @hanvanderhart.bsky.social · 27/03/2026

Even now you see it all around you: the heron opening its wings, the mist on the lake, everything vibrating, evaporating, sparking, dissipating, rising. Diane Seuss

Rising

What do you do after the crucifixion?
The dead body is yellowing within its cave.
What do you do with your time after the pretty one is gone?
Watch the blue heron pick lice out of its wings?
Visit the memory, like a dark red bed hemmed-in by lilacs, a sexy, lonely place, wrapping your legs around destitute air?
Wander all you want; babble to yourself like a nun who entered the convent to hide from grief.
Go to an apple orchard and search for the ghost who doesn't want to be found. Around you the world is in tremulous flower, wet, wanting to anoint the soft face and hands of God. You can lie in the high grasses, remembering the warm skin under your hands, the blue cotton shirt, the pearly buttons, the clean white winding sheet, the look in the eyes that said I am dislodging myself from you, molecule by molecule...
Even now you see it all around you:
the heron opening its wings, the mist on the lake, everything vibrating, evaporating, sparking, dissipating, rising.

by Diane Seuss, from It Blows You Hollow (1998)

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Community of Literary Magazines & Presses (CLMP) @clmporg.bsky.social · 25/03/2026

“In this world the dead are labeled ‘victory.’ The dead and one upright man akimbo and another releasing a bayonet and what looks like a small grenade.” —Jennifer Nelson, in @phillychapbook.bsky.social & our #WomensHistoryMonth reading list phillychapbookreview.org/book-excerpt...

phillychapbookreview.org

Book Excerpt: The Prize of Québec by Jennifer Nelson

Read the featured Excerpt Poem of the Month for April 2025, “The Prize of Québec” from On the Way to the Paintings of Forest Robberies by Jennifer Nelson, along with a few words from the poet.

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Amorak Huey @amorak.bsky.social · 19/03/2026

Today's Poem-A-Day -- 🍎🔥

Honeycrisp

January Gill O’Neil

My boyfriend will eat
an entire apple in one sitting.
Peel, pulp, core. Hands me
the stem when he’s done.
Seeds in his gut. The calyx
a dank star. An orchard grows
inside him. The tongue
that slicks the skin. Hands
perfumed with bruised sugar.
His kisses a tender lament.
The heart that glows. How he takes
everything the fruit offers
and leaves nothing
but the stem. I let my body
follow. Set my jaw soft.
Rapt, greedy, this devotion.
Tough armor. Red glow. Yellow
flesh. Every bite a fall
from grace.

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Genevieve DeGuzman @gendeguzman.bsky.social · 19/03/2026

"Stunt Double" by @mbrrray.bsky.social When it’s time to tap in and get my heart broken so my heart can remain intact, I remember why I’m here. I think of how I look so exactly like me, how I’m the only one for the job 😵❤️ theadroitjournal.org/issue-fifty-...

theadroitjournal.org

Margaret Ray

Visit the post for more.

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Mayor Zohran Kwame Mamdani @mayor.nyc.gov · 17/03/2026

Happy St. Patrick's Day, New York.

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Lauren LeBlanc @laurenleblanc.bsky.social · 09/03/2026

For Alta Magazine, I wrote about Hannah Lillith Assadi's novel PARADISO 17 which imagines the life of a Palestinian man from birth to death and beyond, living as a refugee in search of home. Well worth sharing with those who claim the news is too much for to bear. www.altaonline.com/books/a70521...

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Reposted by Paul Hlava Ceballos

The Slowdown @slowdownshow.org · 26/02/2026

"It’s odd, when I think about ... how we are soothed by the contained version of something that can harm us," @maggiesmithpoet.bsky.social shares in episode 1465. Read "Or am I a room with a roof taken off, still holding onto my idea of ceiling" by @kellyrosehoffer.bsky.social: bit.ly/40ird5P

Graphic featuring a portion of Kelly Hoffer's poem, which can be found in full at the link in the post.

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