Robin Turner

@robinturnerpoet.bsky.social

Poet. Mother. Teacher. Maker. Third Culture Kid. Ambivalent Texan. Chapbooks: Elegy with Clouds & (Kelsay) bindweed & crow poison (Porkbelly Press)

one of the neat things about submitting to the fancier lit mags is that by the time they send you a rejection all the cells in your body have been replaced with newer cells, they're not rejecting you but as past version of yourself, how quaint

One way to understand your own condition is to write something and spend a long time revising it. In revising you teach yourself. You find your own information buried in your body. It is still alive until you are not. —Fanny Howe, RIP

True story, y'all. My thanks to the wonder that is Christine Klocek-Lim for selecting this one. Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY (link in comments) has been a journal for nearly twenty years now, ten of those as a daily. That's devotion. An ongoing gift for all of us. Brava, Christine! ❤️

Bild

Put the dead into your poems without garbing them in your grief. Give them cake, put on their favorite music. Listen to their gossip. Let them tell you how they've learned to bake bread. To carve clarinet reeds. Let them comb your hair. Help them remember the color orange. The scratch of wool.