Author: Emma Geary
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Afties on Aldrich
This is a separate world. Lust and Lady Gaga, gays and theys. “We’re FOX News’ worst nightmare!” Someone shouts with a thrill.
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“I am not afraid to be seen trying.”
So much of finding my way in writing, in work, in relationships, has been to try something and see if it works. Many times, it doesn’t.
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Google Searches We Never Asked For
We are talking about image About loss About 30 quick tips for patriarchy smashing About Eight ways to keep your cool this holiday season How To lose a life in 10 posts To lose a life in 10 lbs How To be the world’s most profound activist in three simple clicks Why More people should…
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Fleetwood’s Golden Shovel
“and the songbirds keep singing, like they know the score/and I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before” – Fleetwood Mac, Songbird – You were carrying groceries and Asking about a news story from yesterday when the Little guys stopped and made us listen. Those songbirds! Above, perched on the broken…
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Come Hydda-Way!
Project responsibilities include: editorial direction / project coordination / vendor editorial coordination / interviews / content writing / social media management + design / experiential design + installation / expert moving truck driver / amazon-ordering aficionado / close friend of the event’s on-site corndog stand Some may say print is dead, but I’d beg to…
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poetry: the drive home
the drive home highway 19 changed its speed limit last month and finally caught up with the rest of the county. you always did 65 anyway, so it hardly matters. the big steer thirty feet above the interstate gas station is looking worn these days—could use a new paint job and a few more spots.…
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poetry: 2 weeks notice
This poem is pretty self-explanatory and was written during a time last fall where I felt trapped and couldn’t write (or think) about anything else. One of the craft tendencies I have in my work is to mimic and incorporate social media terms, slang, and format. As someone who works in digital media for my…
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poetry: sunday
Lines scribbled on a Sunday and reformed into Monday’s poem for class. sunday bring your to-go cups and farmers market flowers. the cold wine from the sink. give remembrance to your 2am songs, your light beer cheers and the brewery dog named Archimedes. give hands to block sunlight, gritted with sunscreen, and others to hold…
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New Year, More Writing!
It’s been a while. I haven’t felt like anything I have to say has crystallized and I’ve been so busy in the “growing” phase of life that I felt like I couldn’t speak to it yet. Everything was moving so fast that at many times this fall, I was simply doing my best to hold…
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The Apartment Gremlin
Working from home alongside someone, and spending such extended periods of time in quarantine together creates a unique routine. I think we’ve all developed habits with our roomies (partners, friends, pets, etc.) that likely never would have existed if we weren’t stuck together for so long. There’s something beautiful in that to me. The wandering…
Emma Geary 