#anna binkovitz

[katiebug21]

A list of some of my favorite slam poems

To The Girl Who Works at Starbucks - Rudy Francisco

The Heart and the Fist - Rudy Francisco

God is Gay - Elliot Darrow

Depression is Funny Like That - Reagan Myers

Dear Creationists - Neil Hilborn

For Henry - Neil Hilborn

One Color - Neil Hilborn and Ollie Schminkey

14 Lines from Love Letters or Suicide Notes - Doc Luben

What Female Ejaculation Feels Like - Mikayla Mitchell

Masturbation - Anna Binkovitz

Bonus not spoken word poem

Her Grave - Mary Oliver

[buttonpoetry]

You, always looking for a wound, you are the wound, the violence that went viral.

Anna Binkovitz, "For Elliot Rodger"

[clatteriing]

// a slurry of ash / and water grayed by the river stones / always wearing away / if away were a color yes like a wall of fog / solid as a fact / of nature / pluto’s planetary debate / the alchemy of category / headlines dimmed in an archive / reflection faded without glasses / all cats are gray / in the dark of my bedroom / where there are no cats / the lack of shape too / is a gray sky / the joy in waiting for the first drop to land / a small stone / sunk in a riverbed / the fish scales / the knife / that shucked fillet from bone / in the right light or dark / my eyes could be / a pair of scales / severed from the body / that died of want / for a river’s murk / and thunderhead / would be a great nickname / always rumbling / sending the kids from their swimming pool / i could trouble the idea of age / like the surface of a lake at dawn / turned the color of a furrowed brow / in the dark yes / trouble is a gray word / not yet solidified in the black space of a mouth / tastes like smoke / campfire hushed by rain / ash / the softest powder i sift through / like a crowd / with no one i love inside //

In an affront to my grandmother’s weekly salon appointments to maintain her status as a redhead, I have dyed my hair gray. by Anna Binkovitz

[bostonpoetryslam]

As writers, we all have to demand more care in the language we use and the worlds we create both on and off the page. By turning the experience of real, disabled bodies into metaphor, this type of writing erases us. A metaphor doesn’t need accessibility resources. A metaphor doesn’t feel the pain of physical limitations.

Anna Binkovitz, “On Carelessness: Disability in the Literary Community,” published in Lumina

[buttonpoetry]

I took an online quiz to find out whether or not you abused me.

Anna Binkovitz, “Thirteen”

[buttonpoetry]

When we talk about stalking, we talk about the aftermath. What happens when no one does anything. We don’t talk about the fear.

Anna Binkovitz, "Unsinkable"

[buttonpoetry]

If men have put us under a glass ceiling, we have built ourselves glass walls to match.

Anna Binkovitz, “Suffragette 69”

[buttonpoetry]

Stop asking people’s clothing to have sex with you, and start asking people.

Anna Binkovitz, "Asking For It"