robin

likewise! so refreshing to read a story that doesn't erase the escalating eugenicist norms since covid emerged. thank you!

Poetry | Collection from robin herold | 8 posts Get more from robin herold on Patreon

thank you! please feel welcome to read more of my poems (& other stuff) on Patreon. it's free+ 😊

would you like to share any of your offerings?

thank you for reading, fellow creature 🐠

the whole issue is fucking awesome & rageful & wondrous & reverant in the queerest sense. i'm so thrilled & honestly baffled that my poems get to live among these marvels of language

a black and white drawing of a human figure with their back to the viewer. they hold an oar in one hand and the other hand above their head, facing over the bow of their canoe, across water, toward a mountainous coastline. text scrawled across the image reads, "WAVING TO THE SHORE OF CIVILIZATION UNSURE IF THE ISLAND IS SINKING OR MY CANOE WITH THE END OF KNOWLEDGE"

& finally, here's a panel from Lichen's comic, "Lower."

beestungmag.com/issue26/one-...

"I am not a woman, but this thing that weeps at night
that steals your smile
at the supermarket
and hides it in the tomato aisle."

—E.K. Bartlett, from "Unabridged car banter"

"Trust they won’t wander toward places they want, cover my mouth, reach inside my sternum and pull out in a clawed fist whatever makes me write poetry, paint the mountains, and love somebody"

—Lucy Jones, from "I am a god who never wanted to be holy"

"Now, it’s not that my friends gave up on my memorial though I will say they didn’t stand on the firmest of legs, those flitting pansies. But. Later. They did hold more-secret meetings in different church basements with organic Tang and doors that locked."

—Grey Traynor, from "Ugh, My Memorial"

"Glasgow’s subway opened in 1896, when there were also people who needed elevators. Also, elevators existed, including one up the Eiffel Tower. It was both before the pandemic and during the pandemic, and during eugenics and before eugenics."

—Sandra Alland

"… help me because I will probably die from my own unfucking, my own inability to transform the world in the way I know myself capable of transforming it: by the wishful projections of my skins and fluids! My tongue so deliciously tracing a new metaphysics!"

—Claire Star Finch tr. Sam Nartus-Fois

newwwwwww beestung! please check it out and share if you're so inclined! bzz bzz bzz! thank you for reading, honeys! 🐝

i have 2 small poems in the new issue of beestung! now i'm excitedly reading the rest—join me!

Pink flower collage and honey yellow background. Text reads: beestung issue #26. "Yet, I am not dead. I am still here. And my organs still demand the most political of sensations. A writer wrote that writing is like inviting someone in between your spread legs. Here are my legs, spread wide." —Claire Star Finch translated by Sam Nartus-Fois

Cryptograms & fried okra. Incorrect metaphors & cocktails of saliva. Guard dogs & praise songs. Worshipping you.

beestung #26 is here!

w/ Lichen Euchella, Sam Nartus-Fois, E.K. Bartlett, Lucy Jones, Sandra Alland, Grey Traynor, & robin herold

www.beestungmag.com

This is one of the most important news articles you will read this week:

Pink background with yellow honey dripping down

1 - new beestung on friday!
2 - catch up on our most recent issue!
3 - we're still open for new work and pay $20!
4 - beestungmag.com for more!

I'm launching a Trans Woman & Trans Fem somatics project with my friends Emmy and Zoe! Please support our fundraiser if you can - the money will go towards launching a trans fem somatics retreat this summer, as well as future healing and practitioner training dreams! chuffed.org/project/1684...

good morning i am experiencing a medical bureaucracy nightmare & this lifted my spirit ever so slightly 🫶 thanks

from .alone.

"—hooks, traps, snares, lures, / & camera gear, to capture // the moment. what are the odds / you happen to hold the expertise // to wield captivity with consequence?"

from .breakers.

"the tide's sole // governor is the moon— / her constitution remains // unwritten & infallible. / wordless, she teaches // to rest & bleed & flood."

i intend to do a small run of physical copies! keep an eye out for a crowdfunding campaign in the coming weeks

oops forgot about this since only 1 like came in 😕 here's a snippet of the last poem in my manuscript:

"now, the virus still raging, / swaths of allies go maskless // at brunch with celebrity / congresspeople, spitting egg // white across their laps in shock / at the court's decision on abortion."

please support Sarah's generous editorial work, curating writing by trans & queer poets, & offering us compensation for our creative labor.

i'm grateful to have 2 poems forthcoming in beestung later this month!

happy birthday! thank you for celebrating queer voices year round 🍯💛

It's my birthday! We're still $190 short, which feels like a doable amount to go for?

Thank you so much to everyone who's shared and supported 💛🖤🐝

i wanna do this! i have a poetry zine in the works called ".where.my.fathertongue.gives.itself.away."

1 like = 1 random line from my WIPs/Published works

The Knotweed Factor | Jennifer Kabat If we’ll never be able to undo the worst of our actions, can we can appreciate nature’s adaptations?

In our new issue, Jennifer Kabat writes on the knotweed that chokes the parking lots and subdivisions across the United States, and wonders: are the measures we are using to eradicate the invader more dangerous than the plant itself?

10 Years Later, Chairlift's 'Moth' Still Sounds Like Nothing Else Revisiting an unsung indie-pop classic

Our compilation Vol.1: Let's Begin got a a shout out at the end of this article! Go read!

Thanks to Max Freedman for the kind words and @mkzariel.bsky.social for letting us know.

10 Years Later, Chairlift's 'Moth' Still Sounds Like Nothing Else Revisiting an unsung indie-pop classic

an album I contributed to got reviewed!! (the @voidscanmusic.com compilation) lavendersound.substack.com/p/chairlift-...

thank you for writing & sharing your poems, & this poem in particular.

"footsteps / echo on pavement like the drumbeat of a thousand / definitions"

love this poem. resonating with me loudly—those days when gender is a reliable ache against confinement.