Cost-Benefit Analysis, 2013
I am to have this gold when you die. To buy ink for poems crumpled on the carpet purchased with your cancer. You’ll make nothing as a writer. But my materials are cheap. Each verse I write about you merely cost one life. They’re signed in blood. A deal we made together years ago.
On Object and Actor
Questioning a binary understanding of women as either object or actor, Her portrays women as both.
He Liked to Think He Was an Island
He often liked to think that he was an island, oceans away from the troglodytes of the continent…
Partial Recall
What I’ve realized is that I shouldn’t get complacent – the best years of my life won’t necessarily come to me; I have to pursue them.
Manuscription
I worry I will run out of words to explain you to myself but you teach me in the night, across my back you trace forgotten alphabets.
Bone Tomahawk
In a filmmaking era when movies are increasingly designed, focus-tested, and audience-approved to please, “Bone Tomahawk” is strangely refreshing for refusing us our simple pleasures.
More Than Vanity
Again and again, I told myself I wasn’t ashamed of my condition…. Yet alone, waiting for a McCosh nurse to take my weight, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by what the eating disorder had made of me.
Trumpist for a Day
Going deep undercover into the terrified and terrifying world of Trump supporters and elderly grandparents.
Don’t Let Your Friends Use Your iPhone
Even if their battery runs out and they really really need to check Snapchat.
The Greatest Debate
Two art history majors argue the most crucial issue of our time: Which Princeton plastic water bottle is better?