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Dale Edwin Sherrard, 1961-2015 February 3, 2016: I am still mourning and still grieving. Known for most of his life as Eddie and then as Dale for the last twenty-six years. So he’s both Eddie and Dale. He used to joke to me that “Dale was [...] by

Tender Theory January 28, 2016: Los Angeles had been a place for an emergence of thinking about the relationship of illness to capitalism, white supremacy, and patriarchy, so it was a good thing that I was there. Johanna Hedva had [...] by

There Exist These Opulent Gardens January 25, 2016: What does it mean to have senses at the end of the world, and what does it mean to have them in common? I was wanting to weep on Wilshire Boulevard, wanting to weep for Soul Cycles and fraying palms [...] by

To Die Historic on Fury Road January 21, 2016: The army was made of War Boys, lumpy with tumors, bald and pale as anyone in chemotherapy, many of them dependent on the terrifying medicine of another (captive) person’s blood. They looked like an [...] by

The Sick Bed & Dr. Donne January 18, 2016: Sometimes I think there is no more tragic piece of furniture than a bed, how quickly it falls from the place you fuck to the place you waste away in. or Sometimes I think there is no more tragic [...] by

To Cure the Sharp Accidents of Disease January 14, 2016: I thought I was telling a joke when I woke up from surgery and said, to the sirens of the ambulance, “Beyonce,” but it came out weirder, like a poem. And if I hadn’t been a poet, none of these [...] by

I Have Taken a Farm at This Hard Rent January 11, 2016: “Chemotherapy is boring,” I’d warn people, and “cancer is terrifying but mostly banal,” and it was true, but by the time Juliana Spahr came to visit, I’d discovered cheap blonde wigs—my [...] by

Little Lamb, Who Made Thee January 7, 2016: The pathology report was terrifying. It said the primary tumor was ugly: highly aggressive triple negative breast cancer, necrotic, reproducing at a rate beyond fast. And my friends, many of them [...] by

What Undiscovered Countries Are Then Disclosed January 4, 2016: The nurses wouldn’t treat the pain. I had no one to drive me home, and it hurt—wickedly—the needle, the insertion of the titanium tumor markers, the size of tumor they were announcing. A few [...] by

BYO Canon (and Other New Year’s Resolutions) December 31, 2015: I remember being in college, charging white friends $1 each at parties to touch my Afro, wondering when, if ever, the world might shift to make me a little less of a unicorn. Or, at least, for the [...] by