space

Literary Creatures: Philly Fringe Festival 2018

Some performances were long. We raged past the show and burrowed furiously into the night. Other performances were lonely and quiet, intimate, with soft conversation and relaxed acceptance of letting the flow be. On the last night, our voices rose and fell in play with one another, harmonizing at their own accord to the perfect pitches, intervals, frequencies.

"So Much Synth" by Brenda Shaughnessy - Poetry Book Review - Billimarie Lubiano Robinson, Typewriter Poetry

Time Traveling into a Well-Kept Room

I remember feeling strange, to be in the town but not of the town. I came across Shaughnessy’s Our Andromeda while quietly stacking inventory for Princeton students in need of textbooks. She was a local poet, working with the Princeton MFA’s Emerging Writers series and teaching at Rutgers. Now, returning back to the east coast, to New Jersey, to Newark–it seemed like the perfect time to read Shaughnessy’s newest poetry book, So Much Synth, during the five hour flight from Los Angeles.

me & thelittleblackcoffeecup

Last week, I got a chance to meet up with Ashley (creator of The Little Black Coffee Cup). We only knew each other through Twitter, thanks to our mutual philosophy–“substance over stuff,” as she aptly says. We connected over delicious gourmet coffee, then explored the artsy streets of Culver City.

"I Saw You Last Night" by Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - "Who says sleep / is subconscious? We don't / just meet / in our dreams, we collapse / into each other, / exhausted from travel / climbing through one / black hole / into another." (Typewriter Poetry)

“I Saw You Last Night”

Originally Posted: May 14th, 2011Updated: August 4th, 2020This poem was featured on Quora as the answer to this question: “What’s the creepiest poem you’ve ever read?” I SAW YOU LAST NIGHT Who says sleepis subconscious? We don’tjust meetin our dreams, we collapseinto each other,exhausted from travelclimbing through oneblack honeinto another. –billimarieoctober 15th 2011 Purchase Poetry