
from Alterbiographies
from Alterbiographies
Notes on contributor: lives with his wife in the traditional territory of white sheets and little apples, explores connection to land through beadwork, writing. His collections of poetry include poems, strange midnight, open air. A public radio producer who works in a bowling alley, he was a finalist for the Award. His writing has taunted her writing—the at-risk minuses, the blight. He is working on a portal to our undoing; his poetry is a desire to dig into people. A hideout.
Contributor lives and writes in a garage, writes libretti of music from a strange planet—a riptide of fair fiction played at festivals in Indiana sleet. The author of becoming, she's thrilled that poems have appeared in our palms. Her short fiction appears, too: nasty, American, green. She holds a BA from the University with a double major in sand and exile. She lives in coincidence, in ice and fire.
Notes on contributor: the flock is coming to Brooklyn. Her poems have been mayflies, hardly creatures. Currently a postdoctoral fellow at the University, she lives in a room and elsewhere. Beast. She won the 2021 Prize and was nominated for a 2022 Award. She currently serves as fire, terror, an infinity of one more year.
Contributor was raised in shortlists, parting words, born and bred in poets and historical liberals. A student at the fire, he’s a founding member of The Review of Rhino Diagrams. He lives in danger of the University, his daughter, the need machine. His is a queer poetry, splitting off anxious and phobic with grace. Troublemaker. His work can be found or is forthcoming in The New Untethered Prairie. Occasionally he is a preschool teacher, between scripts, an aspiring farmer, a PhD student at the University (!). Homebody of the body and psyche, of what ‘your’ therapist says.
Contributor’s only way out is teen theatre queens: queer, fire-scorched, sticky with body heat. They’re a non-binary dancer and wisdom keeper on stolen land. Author of the poetry collection Emerging Queer Poet, they are an American seeking dark humor, fairy tales, and contact information. The fire still burns—the illusions present within them.
Contributor is a writer of yolks, eggs. A family physician contemporary to the pandemic, she recently completed lives, recently has published a first book (a short, barren concentration). Like a cedar, her stories remember—with both Hatfield and McCoy blood. She now hightails it to the new, true Antigonish, exploring themes of creative writing at the University. She is a disabled person/ person with a disability, so her work is in discord and din, black moss.
Contributor is a professor of the arboreal abject, co-authored with avatars—a lost family. His most recent coaching is as Director of Creativity for the School of the University of the Wound. Living on is like a house within a house; ghosts still linger in Plymouth. In acumen, he has more than 50 books written. An avid rum and coke drinker, he is untethered—an Officer of the Order, the winner of several awards. He is a collection of poems. He is light unsurrendered, a not far bridge.
Contributor is a migrant poet in the flayed city of mercy. A widely published co-founding editor/a trauma-informed ob/gyn examined by grief, she is a missed connection to unsure maybes. Her Morse Code is blinks, repurposed peeps. Her toy soldiers edit poetry reviews, on the beautiful unceded territory of fire-and-lighthouse trauma. On the folklore of elsewhere.
Curtains on the journey best called her first: big sky front and centre, imagining a possible trust is wild there, elsewhere. The author of the Big Fiction, she is lucky to write and cartoon her confessions. She is working on a sixth collection on the divine feminine, the whole beautiful world. She is downsizing to haiku about diasporic identity. She is deep breaths, award-winning days.
Contributor: let seven afterlifes, eight natures edit the decades on Grandview Drive by night. Time’s runner up for awards for “The Long Past” and “Each Wednesday." Let Alien Buddha enjoy long, slow films in artful flight from children, award-winning poets, and birds. Among the untamed in New York City, you will be in long-term recovery—a star, a refugee. You best poet, bad wife! You wild heart!
Notes on contributor: A graduate of programs, he is a past poet-in-residence for a murder, water-based trauma. His stories have narrative. He's a devotee of a so-called painter whose work is a broken boat, slow erosion. A writer and fisheries biologist, his land-based poetry is freelance horror. He lives with a research scientist far from Atlantis. He is a Professor at the University, a compulsive diarist.
Contributor 31 is older now. He writes from rocky unceded land of the Mi'kmaq — grain and humble fiddleheads. He is 77, all limestone and ink—honest, fiction-ish hybrid forms. He is a doctoral candidate in quiet time, exile as a settler. He's won a gazillion rejections—blasted presses!
Contributor is a disability culture self-saboteur—trans, queer, and disabled/chronically ill in his free time. A poet with machine code in his slow state of collapse/ bad mammal/ too much flesh. But the Sun is disabled, too—diagnosed with solo and group shows towards a theory on the best atlas. Find more by being alive and living in a body. Multidisciplinary citizenship/ rental bods. Bend into more.
Curtain call: a Master of Transition, she is all things small—bonfires, glaciers. A bird. The daughter of a Mohawk mother and an English father. Native skin. Was born—and sometimes lives—in a territory of prairie fires. She's a single mom in Carthage—happy pilgrim/foreigner. Her work has been carefully sipping jasmine tea, breathing fire at dead white men. She teaches people walking, the true story of the land.
Contributor/dream boy is an acolyte of mediums, forthcoming passages. He haunts performing artists, ever-queer/vibrant other mediums. To create visions he is working to midwife the liberation of saints & sinners. He's also interested in how we become exiled from our hunger by part-time fiddling around. He was a Fiction Fellow at the University; his work is death.
Contributor can make it all up to you—knife in the hunter, no cowboys in Calgary. The poet and fiction writer has appeared in a common house: a queer, trans, non-binary, disabled stolen territory. Hush, Toronto-based marketing strategists; working on first novels is so nineteenth century. Stigma is larger than Vancouver, Edmonton, outlaw Ottawa. This.
Contributor is an ex-scientist—whatever grief works. This close, red water appears poetry. Elsewhere, multiple mediums explore intersections. She’s currently working on purple women, wide awake. They hold pulp and traditional debut full-length music, in pinches. In collective living. In virtual reality. They are focused on themes of surreal and magic identity. Her rare moon is story—in this, and more.