Asé | ANASTASIA WALTON

Asé

fiction by ANGEL’ANASTASIA WALTON

Dakarai. Dakarai. Dakarai.

That day. That day.

I–

I can’t stop thinking about him. Where is he?

Everything just keeps replaying from that day.

Where am I?

5:11 A.M

Tell her how I never did shit for you – tell her – tell her!

That’s the last thing I remember my mother saying to me. In my head I called her a bitch as she laughed falling out of her friend’s arm onto the couch. I remember her smelling like piss and Hennessy. I remember it making my stomach twist, my blood boil. I watched from the hallway and ignored her friend who kept asking for help. Why would I help her? When her friend gave up and left out, I locked the door behind her and watched my mother stumble to the bathroom. The bathroom – right, the only reason I got up in the first place. I tried to wait until she stumbled out but that never happened. I heard snoring from the door. And that night I refused to wake her up and help her to bed, like all the other nights. I said fuck my bladder and laid down. I wanted her to wake up there so when she was sober, she would see how much of a disaster she was. I wanted her to hate herself, but if I could go back, I’d help her to her bed and lay with her.

10:08 A.M

When I heard Dakarai wake up from above me, I wondered if he heard anything from that morning. But in a way it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t say shit. He never says shit. He knows he doesn’t have to with me. In way, it did matter though. Who knows how fucked up your head can get when you never let shit out. I don’t yell at him to speak like our mother though. I’ve always tried to learn him. If I learn him, he doesn’t have to say anything for me to understand what he needs.

You still want to see Us?

He had swung his head down and started nodding with a grin.

Get dressed

He jumped down at the same time the words left my mouth. I got up to go to the bathroom. It was empty but still reeked of piss and Hennessy.

12:18 P.M

Askari?

My name lingered on her tongue like a bad scent. I knew that voice even before I turned around in the concession line to see her face. It’s the type of voice that makes the hairs on your neck stand up and your palms instantly get sweaty. I didn’t know if it was fear or nerves, but I knew I didn’t like it.

I’m so glad I ran into you! Now I have someone to hold my hand during the movie.

She was pretty and anybody else in my shoes would probably would smile at those words, but they made me uneasy. They made me wish I had picked a later show. They made me question myself. Is it because she’s older? Is it because she never asked but

only commanded? Or maybe I am not the type of person who likes to hold a pretty hand? Either way I never said no. We sat in the back of the theater—Dakarai on my left, her on my right. When the movie started, a knot sat in my throat the instant she gripped my hand. The knot got bigger the second she caressed my fingers. I knew I couldn’t talk through the knot but it started to feel like I couldn’t breathe either. A broken spring in the chair poked my butt. I wanted to move. Dakarai was smacking on popcorn. I prayed he ran out and begged for more. I felt her move my hand to her chest. Then down her stomach. Then into her pants. My hand felt numb, like it wasn’t connected to me anymore. The movie theater went silent and I took my eyes off the ceiling to the screen. I saw a little girl dance out of the shadows. She spun in the light. Crashed into the walls. Crawled on the concrete. Rose her hands to God. Then spread her legs with life. I started crying because I never seen anyone ever dance that beautiful.

2:27 P.M

When the screen went black and before the credits even appeared. I grabbed Dakarai’s hand and pulled him out of the theater. I didn’t speak to her. I didn’t even look at her. I just kept walking. I didn’t let go of his hand until we were far enough from the theatre.

You hungry?

We went into Chipotle. I couldn’t eat but I order for him then went to the bathroom. I washed my hand twelve times and it was still numb. The connection never came back. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my vape. Five clicks to turn on – eight clicks for the maximum heat. When I knew the THC was no longer sticky, I took five long drags and waited until she and the dancing girl left my mind, until my thoughts were blank and the only thing I could focus on was breathing. I came out of the bathroom and got us an Uber pool home.

2:58 P.M

I was squished between Dakarai and a random white lady. Her husband was injured in the front seat. Something about a race. The couple and the driver talked about it until we got to their stop. Once they got out the driver said something about his GPS tripping.

Just give me the directions.

I started telling him how to get to our house but his GPS kept playing other directions. My heart was beating fast and I thought about all the crazy Uber stories I ever heard. I wonder what would have happened if I wasn’t so paranoid, but the weed or my intuition made me say –

You can just let us out right here.

3:17 P.M

We were just walking. I knew Dakarai didn’t know the way home and I was too high to pay attention. So we just walked. Did you get the movie? I had asked him. He just shrugged.

I think it was all about fighting. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.

He nodded like he already knew what those type of battles felt like.

3:33 P.M

I remember seeing a field of sour grass. All that yellow looked hella cool to me.

Take my picture, D

He snapped a few of me and we kept walking.

3:45 P.M

We were walking up like 8th street I think. We was – was just about to cross the street when a police car turned the corner. It stopped traffic. We both froze, trying to see what was going on. Everything went so fast. There was a man, tall with long dreads and beautiful eyes. The type of eyes that are probably grey in the winter, but brown in the summer. The type of eyes I’m pretty sure angels would have. He ran around the corner holding his pants from falling. He was running straight in our direction.

Stop!

A police officer from behind him kept shouting. Then he drew his gun. I don’t know if he even seen us. The man saw us though. He was looking straight at me but straight through me too. I remember looking down to see if I was really standing there, when the police behind him let out three shots. One went into the back of his head. The other in his back. And the last one went through his oversized white tee.

Escaping Time

See this is the moment where everything gets blurry. I remember just standing there watching everything ... then next thing I’m on the ground. Dakarai was just screaming and I tried to ask him what’s wrong but I couldn’t. It felt like the inside of my mouth was rusting. The officer was yelling into his radio –

I have two bodies down.

And I remember I was looking for the second one but everything started to fade away. Then I remembered the man’s eyes and I started crying, because I never seen eyes that beautiful before.

Dakarai. Dakarai. Dakarai.

That day. That day.

I–

I can’t stop thinking about him. Where is he?

Where am I?

Everything just keeps replaying from that day.

This Was Taken on March Tenth, FELIX BISHOP

Para los que sueñan (For the Dreamers)

poetry by MITZY SALINAS

Mothers crossing fences to meet their husbands on the other side, handing their babies to Coyotes, kissing them and hoping they make it safe.

Sometimes, they don’t always find them.

Fifteen years later, Their child grows to have ambitions. But we tell them to be wary about their goals, To watch their every move.

Don’t fall into the wrong crowd, You’ll ruin everything. Not just for you, But for your mother and father too.

No, you are not a criminal. No, you have the right to learn.

After all, education is not a privilege, but a necessity for you to strive.

I collect the tears you cry at night, When you think about the future and how they make it feel like an endless climb.

All your struggles will fall into your favors, And when the time comes

I’ll greet you with open arms, and congratulate you for all that you’ve done.

You’re always welcome here, do not forget.

THE IMPACT OF NOTES:

INTERVIEW WITH J. RASHAD SMALL

interview by TREVAUGHN MALIK ROACH-CARTER

This interview was held on October 13th 2020.

TreVaughn Malik Roach-Carter: Who is J. Rashad Small?

J. Rashad Small: I’m a queer, Black man from the South with a whole lot of mouth and a

big heart. I often tell folks that all I ever want to do is eat French fries, sip on an IPA, shake my ass in the streets on the weekends, and help make my communities just a little bit better. I don’t know if I should say this or not, but I am also a Gemini. I like to think I’m one of the fun, social Gemini folks who just wants to day drink while I frolic around the city and make positive memories. My friends may tell you otherwise because I do get a little hangry after a couple beers, lol.

TMRC: What sort of things do you draw inspiration from?

JRS: At 30 years old I know I’ve lived a bit and I hope to share some of my experiences— often the counter narrative— with others. I think about the nights spent with friends around beer markets; packing up my life into three duffle bags and moving to San Francisco to chase a dream; falling in and out of love with tall hipsters who look like they haven’t showered in days; and of the relationships that I have with family, friends, casual partners, etc.

I also draw so much from those around me; I have some badass folks in my life. Folks who have started businesses, traveled the world, folks who just have done some things in life. I hope to share their stories too, with consent.

TMRC: How might you describe Notes by Rashad to someone you’ve run into on the street?

JRS: These are experiences that I break down into shorter notes, and sometimes extended notes, that I hope provokes a thought in others. Some of the stories are lighter in nature while others may be more developed for the reader to understand the full experience. For example, I think of a lighter story being the time I had this amazing stripper dared me to do splits in San Francisco for tequila shots in a bar. Home girl was surprised to see this 6’2” body drop into a full slip so fast. One of my favorite nights with friends in a very long time.

Courtesy of J. Rashad Smalls

From time to time, I also incorporate photos to help illustrate the experiences. Who doesn’t love a good photo, right?

TMRC: What drove you to start writing these notes?

JRS: I’ve wanted to do this for years because I wanted more stories that reflect those who look like me, who are like me, and those who are often left out of the conversations. I finally found the courage to just do it. If anything, the past year has reminded me of how short, fleeting our lives can be and to live in the moment.

TMRC: Were you writing in any capacity before you made this blog?

JRS: Yes, many people don’t know that I entered college wanting to be a photojournalist. I had such an interest in meeting others and making friends. My mother always tells me that I was good to people, they noticed, and I built friendships with so many random folks. I started to explore those relationships more when I discovered creative writing and photography in my teenage years. I don’t think many folks know I went to college with intentions of being a photojournalist. I graduated with a photography degree but switched my minor to sociology from journalism. I hated each of those law

courses I had to take as

a journalism student

and, to be honest, I hated those professors.

Courtesy of J. Rashad Smalls TMRC: Do you ever face

any hesitation when you sit down to write and post your thoughts for the world?

JRS: Of course. I’m sharing parts of myself that are vulnerable and, to put it simple, my truths. You can’t estimate how things will be received by others which can be intimidating. I chose to share because it helps me process and if my stories can positively impact one person, I’m good.

TMRC: Who do you imagine your audience to be?

JRS: Millennials and Generation Z folks.

What do we call you all now, Zoomers? I like to think specifically of BIPOC folks and queer folks, too. Those are my folks and I am sure some may relate to Notes.

TMRC: What do you hope to provide this

audience with through your writing? Was there ever something or someone that has provided that same thing for you?

JRS:

I hope people will connect to my writing and be able to take something from these stories. I honestly just like to talk too damn much; it’s the attention seeking Gemini in me. I talk, I write, and I share to connect. I didn’t feel like I had many stories that reflected my experiences growing up. The best I remember of a BIPOC queer man was Marco Del Rossi from Degrassi. I clung

Courtesy of J. Rashad Smalls

to his story and that of another story of Bobby Griffith. They helped me navigate through a lot but I still craved more, I craved Black experiences.

TMRC: Is there a specific direction you hope or imagine Notes by Rashad going in the future?

JRS: I’ll move into more visual content at some point. One of my upcoming posts will be about bromances I share with two men who are not like me in many ways but who have become so important to me. I told them to grab some beer or wine, sit down with me via Zoom, and talk candidly. I think I started one conversation by saying, “It’s about to get weird.” Those kinds of moments would be nice to share.

TMRC: The Ana is on a mission to redefine art and literature, with the idea that art is within everyone and art is for everyone. Do you think blogging could benefit from redefining? If so, what might you want that to look like?

JRS: Hell yes. There is always a need, in my opinion, to center those voices that are left out of conversations. There are so many people doing amazing things in our communities and across the world. I think about queer, trans, and genderqueer folks in my life and BIPOC and women and disabled folks, so many folk. Let’s fuck this shit up and define our own spaces.

Now if you want to know what that looks like I may talk you ear off. I think it could be anything and all things. Often queer and trans BIPOC are at the center of innovation and you never know what you will get. Wait, you never know what you’re going to get until folks pilfer culture and put it in a TikTok. You know what kind of people I am talking about, lol.

TMRC: If Notes by Rashad was a food, Courtesy of J. Rashad Smalls

what would it be?

JRS:

Definitely cheese pizza with pineapple and sun-dried tomatoes. It’s not for everyone but those with the taste for it will love it. I’ll have to tell you the story of how I discovered this pizza combination one day.

TMRC: If you were not doing Notes by Rashad, what other creative outlet might you be pursuing?

JRS: Nature photography. I connect to this [stolen] land we’re on. I am a descendent of enslaved African people who, in the 1800s and 1900s, made a community for themselves with the land they had and birthed this amazing family I call mine. Being outdoors helps me to spiritually connect to nature as they once did as farmers, educators, and so much more. Love to all the Jacksons of coastal Georgia.

J. RASHAD SMALL is based in LA. He is the creator of the new and refreshing blog, Notes By Rashad. You can read Notes by Rashad at https://www.notesbyrashad.com/

Instagram: @notesbyrashad Facebook: @notesbyrashad

THE NEO-TRANSCENDENTALISTS:

INTERVIEW WITH JADEA EDMONDS AND B. ROCHA

interview by LONDON PINKNEY

I sat down with Jadea Edmonds and B. Rocha to discuss poetry, climate anxiety, and what plants can teach us about being better humans.

The interviews were held in Fall 2019 & Spring 2020.

JADEA EDMONDS

London Pinkney: What drew you to nature imagery?

Jadea Edmonds: It was my junior year at San Francisco State. A lot of people don’t know this, but I battle depression. I wanted to find a way I can nurture myself and keep and eye on it. So I went to Trader Joes and bought my first plant. I knew I wanted a succulent, cuz succulents are easy to care for. I let the plant speak to me and I found plant that was kinda dying but had potential to grow, like me. So I took it home. And over the weeks I watched this plant grow and die at the same time. I saw that it mirrored my journey. I started writing about this journey and it got me sucked into the world of nature and plants. So in the short-form: nature allowed me to see my own growth, my own decaying. I started to take those metaphors and experiences and put it in my

poems.

LP: That’s so beautiful!

JE: Thank you! And after that I became a Plant Mom, too.

LP: How many plants do you have?

JE: I have thirteen now.

LP: Do you see a connection between being a Plant Mom and a poet?

JE: Definitely do. I haven’t written much from the perspective of being a Plant Mom, maybe once or twice. It’s a totally different perceptive. As a Plant Mom I look at things from the plant’s perceptive rather than from my perspective, which is interesting and hard to do. I put myself in the pot and outside

Courtesy of Jadea Edmonds

of the pot— it’s like putting yourself inside of the world and outside of the world. When I write in the perspective of a Plant Mom I am more gloomy, I look more at the dying than the growing. But when I put myself in the perspective of my plants I feel like I’m more into the growing side. Like, I grew from this point to that point. And I new leaves! And although my soil isn’t great I’m still able to grow. I’d rather write in the perspective of my plants than from the perspective of a plant mom.

LP: I love like the idea putting yourself in a pot. To take care of myself I’ve been thinking about we’re pretty much plants but with more complex emotions— we need water, we need sunlight, we need soil, and roots.

If you identify with plants and write from that perspective, how has climate change affected both your plant side and your human side?

JE: Now I’m not gonna lie, when I first got into this I didn’t care about being an environmentalist or care about the Earth. It wasn’t until six months ago that I realized I

should take care of the planet the way I take care of my plants. Whether or not I own the plants out there, I need to care for them. Like with my own plants, I got them a humidifier. I make my own natural bug spray. I am really cautious of how I secure their space, which means I have to be cautious about how I secure the rest of my home. That needs to translate to out there too. I can’t call myself a Plant Mom or a plant lover if I don’t love the rest of the Earth. It doesn’t make sense. So I stopped littering and took extra steps to care for the planet. Though it takes more effort to care out there I’m still trying to be better. I’m cautious about the products I buy, what spray in my hair— cuz whatever I do in here, eventually goes out there. And I spiritually own out there, too. We all need to care for the land and care for

ourselves. I’m part of nature too.

Courtesy of Jadea Edmonds

LP:

Do you think this desire translates artistically? Because it’s the same with writing–whatever we put out there affects and is reflected in the world. Like, racist art. When you don’t know Black people beyond the stereotypes seen in movies or shows, that’s how we are to you. Sometimes Black artists become hyper-aware of the optics of the work we create. So in line with that, do you think your affinity for plants has shaped you into a different artist?

JE: I think so. It allows me to play more attention to detail and go beneath the surface. For example —and let’s use a plant metaphor— my leaves could be growing well but my soil is rotten. And I wouldn’t know that until it grew put to the surface. Knowing about all of plant’s intricacies makes me dig deeper in my writing. Like, I never knew different plants had different needs— one plant needs to be on the left side of the room, when another needs to be on the right. How you potion yourself needs to be strategic. As an

artist I ask myself how I want to be potion so that I can grow and thrive. I ask how can I thrive in bad soil, and what can I learn from bad soil and from trying to thrive in a place where I shouldn’t be. Artistically, I feel like I can shift where I need to shift. Like here, I’m all about nature poetry, but how can I shift and combine nature and racism, or nature and gender. And people have done that, I’ve seen B. [Rocha] do that beautifully.

I also do visual art. When I submitted my artwork to [the magazine] Seen and Heard I felt like like I betrayed my identity. Then I asked myself, why can’t I be a poet who draws? Nature is all over the place and I can be all over the place too.

LP: I hope this isn’t an odd question, but people like to invalidate caring about environmentalism, writing, and racism. How do you cope with juggling these big topics?

JE: It’s not a struggle because I don’t need validation. I know exactly what I want to do and how I want to say it. You can look at the tattoos. People always ask me about them and judge me. Like, I have a lot of women on my body and I get questions about my sexuality and who these women are all the time. And I don’t have to explain anything to anyone. I just walk around not giving a fuck. You’re either gonna listen to me or you’re not. But I feel like as long as I have a strong voice

people are going to follow me.

When it comes to racism, even of we took the word away we would know what it is because it makes us feel some type of way. Racism

Courtesy of Jadea Edmonds

definitely makes me feel some type of way. Nature makes me feel some type of way too. So I don’t need to validate these things, my emotions tell me enough.

LP: Ok, work! I just called a therapist. I’m trying to get myself together and you just gave me all this wisdom.

JE: Girl, right? Therapy is expensive. Buy yourself a plant and mediate. Our generation can’t afford therapy. I need cheaper ways to cope. I had to look in myself and realize I did not, do not need to be validated. As long as it sat right with Jadea, Jadea is fine. If I feel good when I go out there, I’m fine. If I feel racism, I’m gonna do something about it. It’s about feelings, you can sense things.

LP: That approach is so nature-like. Nature’s gonna do what it does. If there’s a bus in the woods, nature’s gonna grow up and around that bus. It’s a force. And I think you’re an embodiment of nature.

JE: Thank you!

LP: Seeing that your art is tied to the environment and we have all kinds of folks destroying the plant, do you feel like there is an attack on your art? Straight up, I feel like this is a leading question but, your muse is being killed. I’m curious of how you feel?

JE: I never thought about that— damn! Here’s the thing, we all create our own muse. So I think artist need to be aware of how to shift your focus. So let’s set, I’m writing about trees then all my trees burned down. To me, my muse isn’t dead, it’s just taken another form. So that dead tree still means something to me. So when you look at something you may see a completely different thing— you may not see anything at all. Let’s say that tree has disappeared, but I knew that tree was once there, that’s a new perspective I can write from. The loss is a presence and is as real as that tree. My muse is never dead, it’s just changed. No one can kill my muse. Anything becomes my muse through my eyes, so as long as I’m looking and creating, I will have muses. Even if I pull it from my imagination, my muse is alive. I know what nature felt like, so I can write about it until I’m gone.

Courtesy of Jadea Edmonds

LP: I know your poetry, it’s so uplifting. There’s lush imagery of vines taking over the body that manifest in sensual ways. And I feel like I’m on the other side of things cuz I’m writing prose about fire. We all about destruction overhere. I wonder how

someone can write in such a growth-centric way as the world is on fire. I’m just in awe of you. Do you think your focus may shift if the planet gets worse?

JE: I feel like the earth is starting to restore itself with quarantine. But I have’t really thought about how things will go back to normal when we are allowed to go back outside. We will need a new normal. And I think my creative process has shifted to exploring what this new normal will look like for plants and for our bodies. I often write about how nature is great but pandemics are part of the human side of nature, and this is not great. Nature will take its course, so I feel like if it’s threatened it’s gonna kill us. Maybe that’s what this pandemic is. Well, I know it’s not. We gotta ride it this out. We need to do our part to restore the Earth and restore our communities as we get deeper into this pandemic.

B. ROCHA

London Pinkney: What began your fascination with nature poetry?

B. Rocha: My fascination with nature poetry began in childhood. I actually grew up on a property with forty different oak trees, and I climbed all of them as a kid. And I helped my pops garden. I had an appreciation for botany, specifically the growth process. And once I started writing I realized how similar humans are to plants and how they grow in a similar way we do, in our life and in our body. So using that comparison was really helpful way to explore those topics. And obviously I’m obsessed with plant imagery, with flowers and everything. I have it tattooed on me.

LP: What makes you so drawn to flowers that you’d want them permanently on you?

BR: I love the permanency of my tattoos seeing that the flowers are now frozen in time on me. Cuz obviously, every single living thing dies. And while I love to find beauty in death, I appreciate having things on me that will not die, so to speak. Until I

die.

LP: So you’re interested in this idea of freezing what is living so it doesn’t die?

BR: Yeah. I like to freeze it on the page in my writing. I allude to a lot of aspects of death– flowers wilting, willows falling. But when it comes to my relationship to botany and my relationship to the Earth I think that it’s frozen in time for me in general because it’s so close to my heart and so close to the way

I go about life. Something I always say, and I have it tattooed on my now is “Everything goes away and unfolds again the way it’s supposed to.” It’s very nice to have this mantra to live by. I know I’m not the first one to have said it, but its so near and dear to my heart because of my relationship to nature and botany.

LP: I love your tattoos, they’re amazing.

BR: I know! I really love the fern. I’ve been talking about how I want ferns at every event in my life. Wedding, funerals. Everything.

LP: Why ferns?

BR: My upbringing with my grandma and my pops. We always planted ferns around our property and I always wanted to bury a garden in ferns. Because they really do bury your garden! They’ll brush over everything and they really don’t have any rules. I like that. It really speaks to my poetry, now that I think about it. My poetry doesn’t have any rules to it. It grows where it grows. And

sometimes it’s uprooted, sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it has a pathway I want it to go in, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s just very nice that even in my craft I see a connection to nature. What’s on the page is just content, but what’s behind the page is just as important, too. I think all ties back to me using that organicness and my connection between humans and plants. It’s nice to think about. Talking about it makes me more enthusiastic about the concepts.

LP: Did you set out to write nature poetry, or is nature a reoccurring motif in your work?

BR: It’s definitely a reoccurring motif. I did not set out to go in that direction. I started out writing stand-up comedy. But for the past six years I’ve been exploring what it means to be human. I look at humans through the metaphor of a flower or a plant or a tree. It’s interesting how I found that voice without trying. One instruction have been the big poets– Wordsworth, Plath, Poe. The problematic poets of history, basically. Their racism, sexism, and all that is there, but their work is so botanically-themed. I didn’t even do most of the readings in my classes, because how can you juggle everything we need to read and write and do? But something I always did read were those poets. If they mentioned nature, plant life, the green. The romanticism–I love romanticism, finding beauty in nature. One writer that I’ve met, who I love, who helped me carve out my botanical voice is Heather June Gibbons. You know her, we love her.

LP: Shout out to Heather Gibbons!

BR: She’s lovely. And she knows who the great poets are. Back in an intro class, sophomore year, she was like, there’s something in your poetry that’s there. I was writing short stories at the time and I was new to writing. I had just switched my major from Business to Creative Writing. But it was finding that botanical voice that made feel more confident in pursuing poetry. It felt more real.

LP: That’s beautiful, B. To shift gears, Environmental Anxiety was a term coined recently to describe the stress Millennials and Gen Z feel regarding the impending doom of climate change.

BR: I like that term! I have the opposite of Environmental Anxiety. The most recent moment of this environmental panic is restaurants asking you if you’d like a straw. They ask if you want a lid, or whatever. It’s the big rigs in the ocean and global governments we need to go after. Besides petitions, voting, and changing our spending habits there’s not a lot we can do to change the government’s mind. In so many ways their mind has been made up. I think the best thing I’ve done is emotionally accept this impending doom while raging against it in deed. I’m composing, recycling, I’m treating every single natural thing with respect. I don’t pick flowers anymore. I don’t buy non-green items. And as fucked up as it may sound, we need to accept that all living things die and the Earth is a living thing. And as fucked up as it is to accept it, we need to accept that the Earth will be no more. We will be no more. It’s horrifying, devastating, everything in between, but its’ also beautiful. Something that’s been around for centuries is ending something. I’m not saying it’s gonna end soon, I believe we can push that date back if we and the government get it together. But I don’t have Environmental Anxiety because climate change is not preventing me from planning my future. It may speak to a privilege I have, and I try to keep educating myself, but I’m not cosmically worried.

LP: For sure. While you aren’t a poet who writes to be remembered there is a chance that there will only be three generations who will know of your work if we parishes thanks to climate change. Because the Earth isn’t going to die, we are. Does that effect how you write and who you write for?

BR: It makes me write more. I’ve seen people seek refuge in my writing. I go into a piece with the intention that I am creating a voice that needs to be heard, but also needs to be related to. I know that there is another trans-masculine that can read my work and relate to it— even if it has to do with fricking birds and trees–there’s some kind of

metaphor there that will give them a moment. I don’t think my work is gonna save anyone, but I know the power of a moment. A moment of clarity, a moment of calmness. It calms me to recognize that we are all living things that are going to die one day, and we grow in different ways, and at different speeds. And it’s clique but there’s not enough poetry that

focuses on how natural our differences

are. We need to relate to one another, support one another through our traumas and our marginalized bodies and voices. And we need to do that now. I don’t think

about my readers as much as I do think about if my work was frozen in time will be beneficial to every generation.

LP: Like a flower.

BR: Exactly. And I love you for saying that. Botany is continuous, ageless. And the regenerative process of that is like the regenerative process of humans. I can picture someone in 1920 reading my work, I can picture someone in 10,000 BC reading my work. I can picture someone in 3000 reading it. Within reason, it will be relatable, and I write with this in mind. I want to write with a voice that you can enjoy timelessly, just as you can enjoy nature timelessly. The only thing I worry about when writing is making sure no one assumes my gender. I changed my name to just as letter. And this kind of gender expression something that is important to my writing because like nature, it’s genderless. It’s just as living.

LP: Finally, I’ve been speaking to you as if you’re a nature poet, but do you identify as one?

BR: In Heather Gibbon’s class we learned about nature poetry and what it means to be a nature poet. We read Tommy Pico. They are a phenomenal poet. They are queer, Indigenous, and have a beautiful voice. And their poetry is the furthest fucking thing from poetry. But they titled their most recent collection is called Nature Poem. It explores being a queer, Indigenous person in a big city. It has nothing to do with nature in a romantic sense. But, at the end of the day it was nature poetry because it was about people, and people are part of nature. To me, it is nature poetry if you write about botany, a language, a land, people because they all exist in nature. So, yes I am a nature poet and I write about living things.

JADEA EDMONDS is poet who creates through the lens of her plants. The exploration of nature ins her outlet and a way of expression. Although most of the time she does not like to label her creative process, nature manifests in her being that then imprints on paper so organically. Instagram: @retrobeauty

B. ROCHA is a deaf, trans-masculine, and eclectic writer who has been creating art, of all forms, since they were a simple but inspired child. Rocha discovered the gratifying process of writing early on and, over the years, they have molded a complex style of poetry emphasizing everyday botanical undertones. They use this nature poetry as a foundation for revealing the subtle constructs of ableism in society. Through this style they have produced and published many captivating pieces that play with the elements of craft through a more accessible lens. Instagram: @thebrocha Website: brocha.squarespace.com

CONTRIBUTORS

FELIX BISHOP (They/Them) is a graduate student in the Communication Studies program at San Francisco State University. They usually work in relation to LGBTQIA+ issues and themes. But sometimes, they just like to take cool photos. Their Instagram is: @felixbishop_wip

JENNA MICHAELLA BAUTISTA is from South San Francisco, California. She grew up in the Bay as the daughter of immigrants from the Philippines. Her high school years were surrounded by the arts. She was a part of the dance class, the choir, the musical, the newspaper, and photography. She spent a lot of time writing and creating. She is a firstyear Creative Writing major hoping to expand her craft and tell the stories of marginalized groups and bring them to the spotlight.

SYDNEY CRUZ is a student at SFSU, currently trying to enter as a Cinema major. He's published two short stories with another publication (Artifact Nouveau) by the creative writing club: Writers' Guild, of San Joaquin Delta College in Stockton. Under the pen name of Benjamin Stroop, the titles were "Written in Black" and "The Bandage Knight" in the Fall 2017 issue.

ALYSIA GONZALES was born and raised in San Francisco, where she currently resides. She is in her final year of the MFA in Fiction program at San Francisco State University. When she's not writing or reading, she can be found hiking, sipping tea, watching film and TV, being curious, or playing with her dog. She is working on a short story collection about class and race's long reaching arms, and a novel about California mountains, climate change, indigenous cultures, and the persistence of history through cultural erasure (oh, and magic).

LARAE J. MAYS-HARDY (she/her) is a teaching artist, performer, writer, and activist based in San Francisco, CA. She earned her Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy with a certificate in Theater and Community Engagement at Temple University. LaRae's life and work focuses on Blackness, decolonization, grief, womanhood, love in all forms, and power. Beginning in the fall 2020, LaRae looks forward to starting her MFA journey in Creative Writing at San Francisco State University. Check her out on Instagram @LaRae.J.MH

SAM HERNANDEZ is a poet living in Brooklyn, NY. Her work was recently included in Endless Editions’ SPRTS 2019 periodical. You can find her @ham_sammie on Instagram.

SHANE HILL is a writer and artist based in Nova Scotia, Canada. Sometimes he

publishes poetry in Open Heart Forgery. More of his art can be found on instagram @unusual_chair.

R. SHAWNTEZ JACKSON

is a native of the Eastbay. An award winning poet,

playwright, spoken word artist, actor, educator and father of Wordsi2i.org. He is described as a vivid story-teller creatively framing and displaying some of the best and worst details of relationships, religion and sexuality. Instagram: @R_shawntezjackson

ANDREW JOHNSON is a History Graduate Student at San Francisco State University who specializes in queer history. While that may be the career of his choice and a point of great passion for him, art and writing are also where he is able to channel his passion and energy. He mainly draws portraits of famous individuals he hopes to branch out into more digital mediums of artwork.

CYNTHIA LOPEZ is a queer Mexican artist and visual designer who has recently started dipping her toes into the photography world. Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay

Area, she loves to spend her free time laughing with her loved ones, rewatching her favorite childhood TV shows, and bothering her pets with love.

ZACH MURPHY is a Hawaii-born writer with a background in cinema. His stories appear in Adelaide Literary Magazine, Mystery Tribune, Ghost City Review, Spelk Fiction, Door = Jar, Levitate, Yellow Medicine Review, Ellipsis Zine, Wilderness House Literary Review, Drunk Monkeys, and Flash: The International Short-Short Story Magazine. He lives with his wonderful wife Kelly in St. Paul, Minnesota.

ARIANA NEVAREZ is from Berkeley, California. She graduated from Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo with a B.A. in English. She lives in Boulder Creek, California, happily surrounded by redwood trees. Aside from reading and writing, she enjoys laying down, watching movies, and eating spaghetti. She is a contributing reviewer for OmniVerse. Her poetry focuses on the beauty and many forms of human connection.

WYNN NGUYEN is an artist who works in many mediums, from paint, sculpture, and embroidery to bookbinding and digital art. As a nonbinary Vietnamese-American, they draw much of their inspiration from their lived experience of existing constantly in between the intersections of race, gender, culture, and sexuality. Find more of their work and the occasional sick meme on instagram: @w.ynn.

NOREIA RAIN is this heat like a cloak under this harvest moon. streets made of hills, the air tinged with salt and sea. these delicious days of poetry and wine and whispers, nights full of spice and magic, branches and shadows. learning how to come alive again.

SPENCER ROBINSON is well-versed in the creative arts and often finds himself

between projects in literature, art / animation, music, and more. He has been writing fictional stories and other nonfiction works for as long as he could read and is currently working on several novels and nonfiction books and a webcomic. Robinson takes inspiration from the many natural wonders of life, as well as an overwhelming desire to

do right and to always choose compassion in everything he does. The works of creators such as Studio Ghibli co-founder Hayao Miyazaki and musical composer Joe Hisaishi (among many other creators) inspire his views to focus not only on the bolder, unique aspects of storytelling but to remember to find solace and comfort in the small things in life. Robinson’s work can be found on social media here: [Instagram/@leroigrenouille, @wanderlust_comic, and Youtube/CrepesAhoy].

KITRA BAZILTON ROWE is a lover of writing, music, and the feline species. Growing up in Southern California and graduating from Los Angeles Mission College, they are now pursuing their BA in Creative Writing at San Francisco State University. With every word they string together, they hope to make a lasting imprint on all those who read them. You can catch one of their occasional posts on Instagram @soundfreverie.

SEN RUIZ was born and raised in San Francisco where she currently resides. She holds a Bachelor's Degree in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing and is currently in the Creative Writing MFA program at SFSU. She writes fiction, poetry, non-fiction and hybrids of the three, that often focus on culture, home and identity. Her work has been published in Transfer and Forum Magazines.

MITZY SALINAS is a Latinx writer/artist from Redwood City. She’s currently earning her B.A. in Creative Writing with a minor in German from San Francisco State University. In the future, she plans to publish books in multiple languages (Spanish, English, and German) while also teaching in Germany. She hopes that her work will inspire others, the way other artists/ writers have inspired her.

SAM SOTOMAYOR exists.

EMMA WAKEFIELD is currently living in San Francisco as an art student at San Francisco State University. She has self-published the children’s book Story of The Sea

and is also working on a young adult novel. Her work was shown at the Middletown Art Gallery Community Works - Restore Showing, (2018) and in the Lake County Bloom (2019-2020). Wakefield’s social media, Instagram: wildchairyie

Using panting, drawing, and digital media techniques Emma Wakefield deals with the exploration of the unique and distinct parts of human nature and the items that reflect their owner’s touch and personality. After being heavily influenced by artist such as Norman Rockwell and Gabriel Picolo many of her pieces are portrait based or are objects which have some form of human influence.

ANGEL’ANASTASIA WALTON is an Oakland Native and recent San Francisco State

grad. At SFSU she studied Creative Writing with minors in Africana Studies and anthropology. She is currently continuing her education career at NYU’s Experimental Humanities & Social Engagement program, where her thesis is related to exposing the extermination of Black boys in America through 1955-2020.

CLAUD YASMIN is a lover, a feeler, a writer, and an artist based in San Francisco. They hold a BA in studio art with double minors in comparative literature and Persian studies from San Francisco State University. Their heart is (always) bursting at its seams. Art is the only option: Create Create Create Create. You can find more of their work at claudyasmin.com.