The poems of A Harpy Hymnal are domestic, mythic, sardonic- ever tender and sharp.
This is "bad poetry" on purpose: poems that sometimes rhyme, sometimes snarl, sometimes whisper, and generally refuse to behave. These pages move across bodies, birds, work, memory, and survival, testing what "pretty" is allowed to mean-and who gets to decide.
Part creative nonfiction and part poetry, the voice here won't polish the truth.
"...just keep climbing... when you get to the top, you'll be free as a bird"
-From the author of Slut Shame; Pity Party.
Related Subjects
Poetry