Blood raw red curtains and a courderoy sea ‘this bed is our country.’* Even when I inhabit it alone, loyalty is to our songs and the tops of churches and trees even the arc of the ugly big O on the east side of town, even the dust and spider webs, even the dry clicking [...]

ahh, lil risa’s blog, so quiet and demure, naive even. mostly because i see fit to abandon you periodically… Things have been going ok over at Open. We’re staggering our way toward a functioning editorial collective I think, and the best bit about that will be the potentially explosive possibility of writing with others. I [...]