doom / party::
on happy hours, destructive vibrations & bazaar invitations~
Hello Dear Ones—
I am writing to you from the florescent verisimilitude of the mall. I am having myself a doom party. Waiting for my phone to be fixed, contemplating the ways in which I voluntarily allow myself to be inundated with the onslaught of external opinion all too often~~~ (how are there so many hard-edged stances, so many opinions stung with certainty, enough hot takes to fuel a gas chamber, when it is not yet noon?)
Sometimes I wish I was as sure of anything as the anonymous talking heads on the internet. Perhaps I am only fitting myself, my mood, into the intensity of Scorpio !eclipse! season, which is now upon us.
Can you feel its low vibration rolling through the atmosphere? Are you waking covered in milk spit-up from fever dreams of baby teeth & the slow marching forward of a storm; boots lifted & lowered in sterile formation; ankles twisted in slow motion; bodies wedged mercilessly behind tempered glass? Are you holding the hands of a panic attack, honestly forgetting your age again, rushing to drain the swamp cooler before it freezes over or implodes? Just me—?
I am only obeying my dreams.
Sinking, finally, into the writing of a story I have long held in the womb of my heart. Yet, in the relief & ecstasy of making time in my schedule for its Creation, I’ve been registering & resonating most with the archetypal Destroyer. Understanding with terror & reverence how any genesis culls a kind of violence in its coming;
& how much of the rest I must cut out for its becoming;
& how in House of the Dragon, it’s the birth scenes, rather than the war scenes, that keep my fingers plastered over my eyes, my chest filled with hollowed screams;
& how life & death straddle a nearly translucent seam;
& how creation and destruction seem less like polar opposites and more like painful portals to one another; each pregnant with its inverse; each our source our universal destiny.
Anyway, what I am trying to say is, despite wading through the shadowed lagoon of present, I am half floating too, around in a celebratory mood, for my second book of poems, [a go], is officially out in the world. Hooray!
Thank you to everyone who has ordered & read & sent photos of & generally supported my writing thus far— especially those of you who are only pretending to like experimental poetry. I see you and I am oh so grateful for your support <3
And in case you haven’t yet::::: you can order [a go] now via Ornithopter Press and while you’re there, pick up a copy of my first collection, Bread Of and/or any other book in the catalogue. Might I suggest Light Up Swan by Tom Snarsky or Reverse Engineer by Kate Colby.
I will end this doom musing with a cheerful invitation ::::
What: HAPPY HOUR BOOK LAUNCH PARTY
When: November 17th, 4-6pm
Where: Enigma Bazaar
This place is downright groovy, with seasonal cocktails & Greek food & trippy vibes for all to indulge in.
I’ll be reading from [a go], along with readings by the illustrious: Anisah Amat, Marie Conlan & Jenni Ashby.
DJ Lali Prolix will be blessing us with some of her interwoven beats, and the one & only Simone Liggans will be offering tarot readings. Some are already calling it the banger of the season~ and the best part is you could be home by 615.
Happy first freeze to those of us on the front range—
I hope you stay warm wherever you are—
Ideally from the inside out—
Gabby
