Violate the dress code

My poem "Reap the Rules" has been accepted by Reckoning. It is my first sale to the journal; it is a particular honor that it was selected for the conflict-themed special issue It Was Paradise. I wrote it last summer after the U.S. strikes on Iran. It is a prayer dedicated in cuneiform to the oldest goddess I know in that region. The title is a mondegreen from Johnny Flynn and Robert Macfarlane's "Coins for the Eyes" (2022) which was about all I listened to while writing. Curse tablets do not seem to be going out of fashion any time soon.

I feel as though I remember to check out Festivids even less reliably than Yuletide, but this year has been a bonanza of which my socks-blown-off favorites look like "There Is No Ship" (Steerswoman), "ASSHOLE" (Looney Tunes), "Queen Bitch Cartagia" (Babylon 5), and "So It Goes" (Foundation). Honorable mentions to "It's a Sin" (Murderbot) even though I can't separate that song from Derek Jarman and "Hard Knock Life" (The Canopener Bridge) for introducing me to its fandom and perfectly illustrating the concept of storrowing.

My sleep has gone extraordinarily off the rails, but the snow in our back yard is criss-crossed with rabbit tracks. Hestia has broken three of the slats in my blinds in order to provide herself with a better view on Bird Theater.