“We are trying our best to bring forth every strand of Latinidad and also be able to put the idea of “Latinidad” under a microscope and criticize it and dig up its dirt and try to shut down anti-blackness. We’re starting to come to terms with the fact that Latinx isn’t a race, even if it is a marginalized group heavily targeted by the president. Everything is constantly redefining itself and it’s nice to be a part of the cycle.”
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This series — Latinx & Proud! — is a look into the world of Latinx literature and the poets who use language to explore the boundaries of their communities and identities. By sharing these interviews and articles, we hope […]
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by Timmy Miller & Sarah Gross The following conversation is part of an ongoing series called Memories in Exile, in which we interview current and former resident writers […]
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The following conversation is part of an ongoing series called Memories in Exile, in which we interview current and former resident writers who have come to Pittsburgh and lived in exile on Sampsonia Way. The […]
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In this Writer’s Block, recorded and taped in the summer of 2019, Cornelius Eady discusses his creative influences, his writing process, and how Cave Canem has evolved over the years. Interview by Rosa Williamson-Rea and Maggie […]
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“I hope to encourage others to find ways to weave their own blankets, to tell their own stories. We all have so much to contribute. So many stories are still buried due to systemic inequities. I write to crack the earth and say: we are here and our stories are bountiful and necessary — just look at us, we’re beautiful.”
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To conclude a year of poetry, we’ve explored the broad philosophical questions of how someone becomes a poet and what it means to sojourn through the creative process. We posed these questions to Allegheny county’s four poet laureates; Vincent Folkes, Paloma Sierra, Mj Shahen, and Celeste Gainey.
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“I was sentenced to 99 lashes just for shaking hands with the opposite sex. … In another instance, when I sent my book to get permission to be published, they censored some of my words. As a woman, if I imagine or write about a romantic connection between two people, it’s censored.”
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by Joseph Szalinski
Wing nights attract like tree stars; barstools and booths become bonafide Bedrocks; boasts of the best are shared like rumors and maps to Skull Island. Roars of napkin-muffled belches and a show-and-tell of aromas greet festive company ready to make flavorful discoveries buried in meat instead of layers of crumbly history. Saucy archaeologists whose only tested faith is in their own ability to devour dozens of drums and flats. Dig-Dugs of dry rubs, rattling off crazy culinary nomenclature as difficult as Latin terminology.
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by M. Christine Benner Dixon
“how many tiny bees/ have gotten that far/ and starved by the journey/ eaten shadow pollen/ never to return/ through her bright horn”
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by “I Medina” Jackson
How do I prepare you for apocalypse?/ How do I prepare you for the inconspicuous, loud, cyclical doom of White/ supremacy’s tentacles”
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By Bryan Conway
paunch extended
shirtless, seated
sippin’ on some beer
yoga-panted
vim and velcro
suddenly appears
