Ely Shipley
Gender: Transgender man
Sexuality: N/A
DOB: N/A
Ethnicity: White - American
Occupation: Writer, poet

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Ukraine
seen from South Africa

seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from Germany
seen from Russia

seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
Ely Shipley
Gender: Transgender man
Sexuality: N/A
DOB: N/A
Ethnicity: White - American
Occupation: Writer, poet
'Hiatus' by Ely Shipley
Congratulations to the SPD books nominated for The Publishing Triangle's 2018 LGBTQ Book Awards!
Finalist for the Audre Lorde Award for Lesbian Poetry:
MOSAIC IN THE DARK by Lisa Dordal (Black Lawrence Press)
Finalist for the Thom Gunn Award for Gay Poetry:
LUMINOUS DEBRIS: NEW AND SELECTED LEGERDEMAIN1992–2017 by Timothy Liu (Barrow Street)
Finalists for the Publishing Triangle Award for Trans and Gender-Variant Literature:
HOLY WILD by Gwen Benaway (Bookhug)
SOME ANIMAL by Ely Shipley (Nightboat Books)
Additional congratulations to authors with previous books carried by SPD, including Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, Brynne Rebele-Henry, Blas Falcone!
http://www.publishingtriangle.org/
I glimpse myself in the mirror. I’ve been warned never to stare in a mirror while here. Don’t even ask why, just do it anyway. My gaze a gaping question. Pupils an abyss. The center of an inverse universe, eternal corridor of mirror reflecting deeper into some ancient beginning that is also an always and impossible future staring back. Mouth of a hungry ghost. Narcissus. Bloody
Mary. I want to see—I’m not sure what.
— Ely Shipley, from Some Animal
My Metallica shirt clings to my chest with sweat when I flip on the light. Bud-like shapes just beneath the band’s insignia, bud-like horns just above a skull. I peel back the skull to see. The nipples have changed from small dime shapes to oblong eyes. They stare and seem sad. I grab the small lumps in my fists. I try to crush away the alien crowns. But can’t. They’re red and swollen. They’re bigger now. A wave of nausea tilts me. I don’t faint, but move to the toilet to puke. Can’t.
Before heading out I put another shirt on under Metallica, even though it’s early August in Southern California and somewhere near 100 degrees.
— Ely Shipley, from Some Animal
I'm all alone inside // a riddle.
Ely Shipley, Some Animal