In my kids’ yoga classroom on the Lower East Side, two hundred elementary school girls still in their uniforms take the shape of a cow. Knees under hips, hands under…
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Image Credit: Samantha Steiner I awoke on my baptism day to an impending panic attack. It crept in slowly, settled into the pit of my stomach and sent shockwaves…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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Image Credit: CB Wilson CB When did I first become aware I have a body? In the podcast “Living in this Queer Body,” host Asher Pandjiris begins each interview…
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* * * I wonder if birds’ throats get sore Let me try that again. I wonder if birds ever get tired of calling into the nothing; of being high…
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Image Credit: Eliza Moore 1 I imagine Walt Whitman’s body Walt Whitman, an. American, one of the roughs, a kosmos, Disorderly fleshy and sensual, eating and drinking…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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Image Credit: Charles Landseer We were told a lot about a medical student’s first time in the anatomy lab. We were told that our donors, which is what we…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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“I don’t care—just make it even,” I said to my mom. She turned the clippers on. As the first tufts fell onto the towel draped over my shoulders, I did…
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Parents Who Work, a System That Doesn’t Giancarlo, the smog guy, always struck me as remarkably good-natured for someone who worked in a fume-filled shoebox all day. When I’d…
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The last time I belonged there, I straddled the steam hissing off the asphalt with my right foot on the curb at Charlotte Douglas International and my left on the rubber mat…
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That first menstruation was a shock. Bleary eyed, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw the blood, spotty and sticky and dark—yet undoubtedly from my own…
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The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough. -Ezra Pound, “In a Station of the Metro” Dear Big Toe on my Left Foot, …
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