She screams like a plastic baby doll that's been left in a puddle, it's voice box slowly mouldering over time as the muck ebbs and flows into the batteries, and of course when she winds herself up to really get going, my flatmate and I mimic the noise back at her

Imagining some horrible imp popping out of a shadowy corner, 'slather thyself in the black salve! uses organically grown bloodroot, half off with every purchase of a skin shredder'

I had the privilege of seeing Marilyn Hacker read her poems in a small bookshop in 2019, I wrote essays on her work for uni, she's one of my favourite poets especially for studying form

It's not that I expect everyone to have an in depth knowledge of every culture on earth, but the concept of 'open source' as if cultural interpretations are intellectual property that you can trademark makes me feel sick in my soul

Open source????? OPEN SOURCE!!!! Cultural histories and mythologies referred to as open source!!!!

To elaborate, one was an interesting idea but suffered from clunky prose making it difficult to want to keep reading it, the other was just atrocious, and thus save me Shirley Jackson, save me