Tag Archive
Honestly
My secret desire to rap began somewhere in the awkwardness of high school when I heard a couple of older kids rapping along to the Minneapolis based hip-hop group Atmosphere: “I’m bigger than Jesus and bigger than wrestling, bigger than the Beatles, and bigger than breast implants… »
Scatterbrain
I was joking with a friend the other day about what would happen if we could give a peasant from the Middle Ages a Macbook. I’m pretty sure they’d deal with it in the same way Zoolander does in the scene where he tries to extract the files that are “in the computer.”. »
Splintered / Confessional Pt. II: “Confessions”
A poem by Anthony Frame
I would look terrible in my Rasta-
farina hat. The rainbow wig, bloated
with dreadful black hair, drowns my. »
Splintered / Confessional Pt. I: “Arrested”
A poem by Jessie Carty
We had you arrested
said you were a threat
as you drooled
vodka
down your loosened. »
Features
Poems by Jake Sheff
Inner villanelle of a father-to-be without his Xanax
Father-to-be, you are not a villain.
Hell, black bile does not blackball from mating.
But you know, they’ll be your children. »
Call for Interviews: DO Talk to Strangers
The Splinter Generation is now accepting submissions of interviews with people you wouldn’t ever talk to. Find someone you wouldn’t ordinarily meet, or someone you disagree with on almost everything and have dinner, or a drink, or an email exchange. Record it, transcribe it, edit it down, and send it in.
Why? Remember when you were. »
Poems by Lauren Schmidt
Her Name is Sarah
When Randy drifted in for dinner with her baby
tangled in the rosary scars of her arms,
pressed against the dust of her breast,
everyone wanted to see. They softened
their eyes, their smiles, the way people do
when they look on a baby sleeping,
a baby who has not cried in two days,
a baby whose eyes ooze. »
Megan Hildebrandt Talks Art, Humor, and Cancer at 25
Being diagnosed with cancer and experiencing chemotherapy at age 25 dramatically changed the priorities and course of my work. Prior to this illness, I made narrative-based images about local history and my neighbors. Now, the stories in the work have emerged directly from my own body and memory, and the history is my own. »