belladonnacollab:

Belladonna* Collaborative presents: Among Genres
featuring Amanda Davidson, Stephanie Gray, and Jess Arndt

3 writers; 3 chaplets; 1 night

Join us at Unnameable Books (600 Vanderbilt Ave, Brooklyn, NY) on Tuesday, September 23, 2014 at 7 PM

Check out the Facebook event for more information

Jackie Wang will be reading at this event as well!

(via uglyducklingpresse)

jdscottinternet:

ritualofoakandmistletoe:

Sacred Grove is a new reading series based in Tuscaloosa. A play off the hallowed space that the Druids would use for rituals (Tuscaloosa is called “The Druid City” after all)—SG’s goal is to host readers, with the emphasis of bringing in writers from the surrounding Southern towns (& elsewhere!) to perform their work.

Our first reading will be on Friday, October 3rd @ 7pm—to be held at Icon (516 Greensboro Ave). The goal is to continue the series on the “first Friday” of the month, so please reach out to sacredgrovereadingseries@gmail.com (with 3-4 pages of writing attached) if you would be interested in reading at a future event.

Follow this Tumblr for more updates, and PLEASE #signalboost so more people can find out about this series that is being made available. 💘🌳

PLS FOLLOW & REBLOG, Y’ALL. I WANT TO HOST YA WRITERS HERE IN T-TOWN!

JD Scott is starting a reading series in Tuscaloosa, AL!

"I am a dog in a ship on its
way to the atmosphere. I

am a ship making its return.”

"please raise your hand
if like me you’ve ever pried the lid off
a can of old house-paint with a buck-knife
and nicked yourself then sucked the wound clean”

carriemurph:

Love this poem by J.D. Scott. It’s about Mike Brown. 

It’s the same sentence again

and again and still it’s not enough.

Steal a bag of chips. Make it Skittles.
Make it a Popsicle and read me

the riddle on the stick: ‘How many Black
bodies does it take to _______________?’

O who will be the accountant and sort
through the dead that fill this silence?

Who will answer?
Who will be accountable?”

"I tried to staunch the second loss.
I cinched my legs in denial. You were cursing the chart,

spooning me, when my parents called to thank us for their Fruit
of the Month. Pitting peaches, were they thinking of the chart?”