Project Bookshelf: Rachel Bulman

My bookshelf, alongside being scattered across innumerable shelves and cubbyholes around the house, is characterised by the books most beloved to me (so those are the ones I’m going to cover in this blog post). However, due to the spread of genres and styles my taste tends to encompass, I’ve decided use this time to encourage you to broaden your taste outside your usual genres – read something unfamiliar.

This article is formatted with a top three for each genre, although it brings me great pain to miss out so many wonderful novels and collections. Please enjoy perusing your favourite genres, as well as the genres you avoid or prefer to read around, and I hope you find something worthy of brightening up your 2026.

First, because it’s probably my favourite category (a sentence which feels vaguely like choosing a favourite child), is speculative and science fiction.

1. The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness

The first novel in the Chaos Walking trilogy, each book deals with different themes around coming of age, and what it means to be human (pretty basic stuff, right?). The Knife of Never Letting Go is set in a new, alien world as humans continue to colonise further away from Earth. Todd Hewitt, our young protagonist leads the book’s adventure plot, following a journey of self-discovery and pondering the terrible subject of violence being an inherent characteristic of human nature.

2. Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card

Another young boy suffers from the manipulations of adults, who wield his circumstances against him. Scott Card creates a frighteningly straightforward depiction of nationalised Earth as a meritocracy, and of eight-year-old super-intelligent Andrew ‘Ender’ Wiggins. In a practical exploration of how to ruin a child’s life and also make them a god among men, Scott Card shows readers what not to do. It was a true pleasure to be so outwitted by this fictional teenager.

3. Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

One of the most surprising and beautiful recollections of the First World War I have ever read. As in most things, Vonnegut breaks from the mould and surprises the reader with a roster of alien abductions, chronological mischief and a bedridden, failing sci-fi author. Slaughterhouse Five is autobiography at its greatest, and I would recommend it to anyone wanting to learn about the human experience of coping with incalculable loss.

Classics. Any bookshelf would feel intellectually incomplete without some classics. My preference in ‘classic’ literature is slightly unorthodox, however. I tend to steer away from the Brontë sisters and Dickens, instead going for the likes of Waugh, Vonnegut and Márquez.

4. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

I finished this book most recently, and I still haven’t quite concluded my book-finishing grieving period. Reading this in English is, I’m sure, nowhere near as rich as reading it in the original Spanish, but that didn’t stop me from finding the entire novel lovable. The most accurate depiction of the simultaneous burden and miracle of family, the story follows 100 years of the Buendía family. As a reader you grow with the children, watch them fall in love, suffer and cause tragedy, argue, and love one another (occasionally too much). This book is perfectly curated mess, and I love it all the more as a result.

5. Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

In a novel that is both surreal and reflective, Waugh creates a sprawling narrative with a cast of glittering, esoteric characters (looking at you, Aloysius), and a series of beautiful locations. What begins as a tender, homoerotically charged relationship between two boys at Oxford University in the early 1900s builds into a life-long tangle of hurt and love and Catholic guilt all coming to an abrupt halt as war is declared across Europe.

6. Perfume by Patrick Süskind 

Chilling but wonderfully lyrical, Süskind brings the reader alongside a man with a superpowered sense of smell, set on becoming the world’s greatest perfumier. The novel is far from sweet or satirical however, bringing some of the darkest aspects of the human character together with enormous ambition.

Last but absolutely not least, fantasy. I’ve spent my life surrounded by fantasy books, so it was difficult to choose, but I think the three I’ve gone for represent the variety the genre has to offer the best (while offering credit to the authors that truly made fantasy what it is today).

7. The Earthsea Quartet by Ursula K. Le Guin

It seems a little strange to have Le Guin on this list as a fantasy author, when her sci-fi has been just as much if not more influential over the years. Still, The Earthsea Quartet, with its creeping melancholia and dazzling descriptive passages never fail to inspire me. In 2025, I visited an exhibition of her maps called ‘The Word for World‘ – supposedly, Le Guin began her world building process with map drawing, and in stories like The Tombs of Atuan, second in the Quartet, it shows in the best possible way.

8. Magyk by Angie Sage

A novel intended for children and first installation in a series of seven, Sage’s prose is energetic and alive with humour. Quirky but brilliant world-building surrounds a story of family, loyalty and overcoming darkness in spite of it. I read this book at 20 years of age and would heartily recommend it to anyone with an interest in good stories and good fun. The characterful hand illustrations from Mark Zug don’t hurt, either.

9. The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

The best book I could think of to round of this list. A prelude to one of the greatest fantasy books of all time, The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit is a beautiful fantasy romp through a safer Middle-Earth than in Tolkien’s later books, with an excellent array of dwarves for company on an epic (but comparatively mundane) quest to the Lonely Mountain. The legacy of this novel speaks for itself, and I implore you to read it if you haven’t before.

So there you have it, my bookshelf. As mentioned before, there are a hundred other books I could mention — a good deal of them children’s books (C. S. Lewis, Cressida Cowell, you name it, I’ve read and loved it) — and lots of excellent stories in each. I am an avid supporter of a varied bookshelf so please, if you spotted something here that takes your fancy, go out and find it in a second-hand shop, borrow it from a friend or from a library and read something unusual.

To finish on, my favourite short story of all time — The Dechronization of Sam McGruder by George Gaylord Simpson. A story written by a palaeontologist in the margins of his diaries and published by his daughter, this book is everything literature should be: a person sharing their unabashed passion through the most wonderfully unhinged 170-page sci-fi survivalist novel. Happy reading!

Rachel Bulman looks left over the wide, blue Gard-Vaucluse river on a bright summer afternoon. 

Rachel Bulman (she/her) holds a BA in English and Creative Writing as well as an MA in Publishing from the University of Exeter, specialising in interactive and children’s fiction. Her written work has appeared in The Book of Choices, Velvet Fields, and Exeposé, among others. Find her on Instagram @worm.can.read, through her online portfolio, or ask the bridge troll who taught him his riddles three.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Affidavit by Starr Davis

This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Claudia Santos, is from Affidavit by Starr Davis (Hanging Loose Press 2026).

Content Warning: domestic violence

EXHIBIT LIST OF SUPPORTING EVIDENCE

  1. Exhibit A1 – Police record my body never made ’cause bodies like mine don’t call the police
  2. Exhibit A2 – Palimpsest memories stored in my blood overwritten by the movant’s narcissism
  3. Exhibit A3 – My bruised forearm in response to me congratulating a friend on Twitter
  4. Exhibit A4 – My reddened neck in response to asking to phone my family members
  5. Exhibit A5 – The hidden biochemical governance of the undeparted postpartum
  6. Exhibit A6 – Police Report I dreamed up in response to a call I thought of but never made
  7. Exhibit A7 – Unforeseen text message to my mama which contains an erased plea for help ’cause I knew better than to go down there with that boy I ain’t know that well anyways
  8. Exhibit A8 – The audio recording I never recorded ’cause he said he wouldn’t do it again
  9. Exhibit A9 – A recording of dirge saying he would kill me and take the baby if I thought of leaving
  10. Exhibit A10 – The oneiromancy of my pregnancy
  11. Exhibit A11 – Police record my body never made
  12. Exhibit A12 – Police record my body never made
  13. Exhibit A13 – Police record my body never made
  14. Exhibit A14 – Police record my body never made
  15. Exhibit A15 – Police record my body never made
  16. Exhibit A16 – Police record my body never made
  17. Exhibit A17 – Police record my body never made
  18. Exhibit A18 – Police record my body never made
  19. Exhibit A19 – Police record my body never made
  20. Exhibit A20 – Police record my body never made

Starr Davis (she/her) is a poet and essayist whose work has appeared in The Kenyon Review, Academy of American Poet’s Poem-a-Day, and The Rumpus. She was the 2024 Writing Freedom Fellow with Haymarket Books and the Mellon Foundation. 

Claudia Santos (she/her) is a Mexican reader and writer. She received the PECDA Colima 2024 writing grant for her non-fiction work and was a Sophia-FILCO Young Writers 2025 finalist for her poetry work. She is currently pursuing an MA in Children’s Literature as a EMJM scholarship recipient.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Affidavit by Starr Davis

This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Claudia Santos, is from Affidavit by Starr Davis (Hanging Loose Press 2026).

I COME FROM

              after Tina Chang

I come from pants pockets, rolled socks, wired bra strap: the dusky places poor people hide their money. A crown royal bag full of quarters and pennies to put in collection plates on Sunday.

From double-dutch and deadbeats, an ashtray of cinders, an empty pill bottle. Every corner of juice saved in the carton as if we might need that slice of sugar on our tongues if a tornado hit.

As if, that gulp might give us strength, the way a hit gives my mother enough power to be a god, a mother, a warrior, a man, a piece of bread from her lips, if we ever go hungry. I come from that too, the indifference of food and drug, the

Crackling of a pipe or a joint, the smacking from lips and flesh. In the cheapest places, I learned people are the most expensive drug you could buy… I come from those cheap places: crack houses, corner stores, church. The ones that cry the loudest with tambourines beaten bloodied by sandpaper palms. I come from the crevasse between thumb and index finger, of the dryness collected there. I come from that succulent. From plastic plants, plastic furniture. From preserved pain, preserved love.

I come from the screech of a screen door, the chime of handcuffs, the flicks of fire. I remember the first time I sold my body. I was a pamphlet unfolded, only to be unfolded again. I come from that; worn pages of bibles no one reads.

The travailing of crows on wires. The aged chicken grease in cupboards. The sounds of a woman faking an orgasm. Or worse, faking her own death. In her own bed. The dim ceiling lights that turns us orange. Darkness. The oily water from my sisters’ bath. I come from that: Seconds.

Hand-me-downs. Thrifting through pantries, through boxes of toys at yard sales. I come from the reselling of things: slavery. My body is waiting for me, in a backroom somewhere at somebody cousin house,

maybe its interest has gone up. Maybe it grew wings. Got out. And maybe it hasn’t. Maybe it settled. And has become one of those slaves that falls in love with its master: bondage.

I come from that too.

Starr Davis (she/her) is a poet and essayist whose work has appeared in The Kenyon Review, Academy of American Poet’s Poem-a-Day, and The Rumpus. She was the 2024 Writing Freedom Fellow with Haymarket Books and the Mellon Foundation. 

Claudia Santos (she/her) is a Mexican reader and writer. She received the PECDA Colima 2024 writing grant for her non-fiction work and was a Sophia-FILCO Young Writers 2025 finalist for her poetry work. She is currently pursuing an MA in Children’s Literature as a EMJM scholarship recipient.


Sundress Reads: Review of Not Now Now

Sundress Reads

Sandra Doller’s Not Now Now (Rescue Press, 2025) is a powerful interrogation of motherhood, autonomy, and growing older in a country rooted in patriarchy and violence. By playing with the nonsensical, the incongruous, and the strange, Doller’s work interrogates the self and attempts an honest answer about our sobering reality. Although all the poems are untitled, the collection is divided into three sections: “Not,” “Now,” and “Now,” tracing a compelling arc on coming to terms with adulthood.

In the first section “Not,” often unpunctuated poems bleed into one another as Doller explores the frenzied contradictions of daily life. Her work is intentionally, unreservedly indulgent, focusing on the complications of authority and (in)dependence. In particular, the rhetorical weight of the “I” looms in each poem. In one instance, Doller’s speaker reflects, “he doesn’t use the word I / at all, just We and They / occasionally You but never / Himself never inserted as if / that’s a kind of absence / when in fact it’s the worst / kind of present tense / takeover as if he is not even / in his own likeness” (41). At the same time, Doller’s speaker turns to another unknown figure, “You and your dirty / I” (27). Through wielding both accusation and praise, Doller challenges the idea of a “tainted” or shameful self. No one is wholly innocent, or naive, or even honest with themselves, but perhaps the so-called dirtiness as we grow older—the accumulated disappointments, sorrows, regrets—does not need to be harbored in secret shame.

It is also in “Not” that Doller lays the groundwork for a vision of a distorted quotidian, interrupting what the reader may assume to be “normal.” Suspending disbelief, Doller’s speaker describes instead: “When women speak with / their mouths full of soap…Their mouths wide / whale for the credit / card insert a flag here” (38). The credit card, blurred into a flag, with a presumed place inside a woman’s body, is a true mark of the American violence that Doller attempts to grapple with. More subtly, the poem’s speaker also points out, “Erasure of girl / is a tricky little / business I’ve been / at for a few / centuries now…Puffed / sleeves and push / ups everything is / elevated. Make it / higher and high / like bangs” (42). Through the poem’s progression, Doller creates a heightening anxiety and tension that reflects the truly century-long project of controlling bodies—gender, sexuality, sex. How is girlhood defined? And then policed? What kind of adulthood can emerge from and in conjunction with this?

In “Now,” the collection’s second section, Doller’s dense series of prose poems pulls the reader into its very center of tension. The images are equally distorted as before, but the distortion settles into clarity now, where a landscape of often white, middle-class, suburban American domesticity emerges. It is in this space that Doller shoots questions with more striking precision than ever. “Does your belief depend on me to open it,” the poem’s speaker asks, to “crack that nut like a slow-moving rat on the line, does it” (72). In cutting bluntness, Doller dares the reader to face most what they want to the least. What loss had to occur and continues to occur in order for your current life to take place? In another poem: “How many years did a woman live here before me,” and “once you move in there is no moving anymore” (53). Doller makes it clear that in her poems, we are not walking around in wonder or confusion anymore. We are asking questions; we are conversing; we are creating our own answers. Despite the sinister threat of inaction and stagnancy, a form of agency and pushing forward is still possible. “I am a moving crisis in Washington and the kids know it,” Doller’s speaker declares, “watch me watch you corrupt the process” (76).

Finally, in the last section, also titled “Now,” Doller closes the collection on a note that is neither melancholic nor optimistic, but uncompromising and sincere. In one of the poems, the speaker confesses, “I have / been afraid so / afraid before. / I am sore / for the men / inside their empty / puffy suits. I have / never coughed like / that or moved my neck / so little” (109). Through this tender and vulnerable admission, the speaker acknowledges their world for what it is and has been, but now the space opens up to change. Language must be intentional, broken apart, changed—which is why Doller writes, “We foil / ourselves like cartoon / bandits. America are you / listening, lingering, are you / so old you can’t just can’t anymore” (102). Instead of saying “are you so old you just can’t anymore,” the poem refuses the oft-used excuse of fatigue and tradition.

Not Now Now is a stunning collection that grapples with how precarious our existences are. Even in our conversations with each other, just one letter can determine the sentence’s meaning, “the way one letter from word ‘now’ to ‘not’ changes everything: your breakfast is now ready, your breakfast is not ready” (Doller 55). There is fragility and ambiguity to most problems, but the reader learns through these poems that they must confront these experiences head-on. As Doller writes, “Let the times you flinch be / the times you’re really in it” (39).

Order your copy of Not Now Now here.

Ruoyu Wang is a writer from Seattle. Their poems appear in Sine Theta Magazine, COUNTERCLOCK, and The Shore, and have been recognized by YoungArts, The Adroit Journal, and Narrative Magazine, among others. Currently, they serve as the Founding Director of the SUNHOUSE Summer Writing Mentorship and study Critical Race and Political Economy at Mount Holyoke College. They love linguistics, postcards, live music, and jasmine milk tea.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Affidavit by Starr Davis

This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Claudia Santos, is from Affidavit by Starr Davis (Hanging Loose Press 2026).

Content Warning: domestic violence

AFFIDAVIT II

A sworn statement:

I,              a resident of succulent places both mental and physical, came and appeared, eschatological as a woman pastored by papayas & Pendergrass records & predators both flesh and spirit, under penalty and personal knowledge, that few or all ecclesiastical things are correct:

THE—imperial—rule of my hips conjured a dream that could not be undreamt; all the men in my life have been mostly theory less Bible; niggas that I could love on accident and leave on purpose however, this one: a consequence of the unhealed in hotel rooms after tangerine suns bleed graceless, took my dream hostage for a night choked my last sweetest memory until I couldn’t taste any remnants of the most fabricated joy I could say I’ve witnessed, he is by a law, the nigga my mama never warned me about because he is the niggas we are born making excuses for; days before I delivered this dream of mine I thought of calling the police but he said me and my little dream would be dead before they found us and so, the drafted petition for domestic violence still etched in my bones is opaque;

THE MOVANT, who is mostly flesh not spirit, is not within the best interest of any dream(s) of mine

Starr Davis (she/her) is a poet and essayist whose work has appeared in The Kenyon Review, Academy of American Poet’s Poem-a-Day, and The Rumpus. She was the 2024 Writing Freedom Fellow with Haymarket Books and the Mellon Foundation. 

Claudia Santos (she/her) is a Mexican reader and writer. She received the PECDA Colima 2024 writing grant for her non-fiction work and was a Sophia-FILCO Young Writers 2025 finalist for her poetry work. She is currently pursuing an MA in Children’s Literature as a EMJM scholarship recipient.


Sundress Academy for the Arts Presents Writing Without Words: On Gesture

The Sundress Academy for the Arts is excited to present “Writing Without Words: On Gesture,” a workshop led by Stacey Balkun on Wednesday, May 13th from 6:00-7:30 PM EST. This event will be held over Zoom. Participants can access the event at tiny.utk.edu/sundress (password: SAFTA).

As writers, our medium is words: written or spoken; mumbled or sung. We share language with other genres—like music and theatre—but what other tools do these media have in conjunction with words, and how can we learn from them? In this generative workshop, we will expand our understanding of our art form and craft our own poetry or short prose pieces that are driven by more-than-words.

Drawing inspiration from instrumental songs, mime acts, and experimental poetry, we will devote the majority of our session to studying gesture: a vital tool for every art form. We will consider artistic examples ranging from the band Daikaiju to the painter Kay Sage as we engage in conversation and participate in low-stakes, wordless activities designed to spark our imaginations, before quietly writing with the guidance of a prompt, with an opportunity to share.

While there is no fee to participate in this workshop, those who are able and appreciative may make donations directly to Stacey Balkun via Venmo or Paypal at staceymbalkun@gmail.com

Stacey Balkun is the author of Sweetbitter and co-editor of Fiolet & Wing. Her creative and critical work has appeared in Attached to the Living World, Best New Poets, Mississippi Review, and several other volumes. Stacey holds a PhD in Literature from the University of Mississippi, Oxford, where she was awarded the Holdich Scholar Award, and an MFA in Poetry from Fresno State. She has been granted fellowships and grants from the Modern Language Association, PEN America, and the Helene Wurlitzer Foundation in support of her writing.  Stacey teaches online for The Poetry Barn and the University of New Orleans.

Sundress Academy for the Arts Presents May Poetry Xfit

The Sundress Academy for the Arts is excited to present Poetry Xfit hosted by Layla Lenhardt. This generative workshop event will take place on Sunday, May 31st, from 2 to 4 pm EST via Zoom. Join us at the link tiny.utk.edu/sundress with the password “safta”.

Poetry Xfit isn’t about throwing tires or heavy ropes, but the idea of confusing our muscles is the same. You will receive ideas, guidelines, and more as part of this generative workshop series in order to complete three poems in two hours. A new set of prompts will be provided after the writers have written collaboratively for thirty minutes. The goal is to create material that can be later modified and transformed into artwork rather than producing flawless final versions. The event is open to prose authors as well!

The theme for May’s Poetry Xfit is “Travel.” You may be writing in your home or other confined space, but here is an invitation to let your mind wander and visit  places beyond the room you’re in. Join us as we meander through the spaces, times, and locations we have been to or want to explore through writing.

Layla Lenhardt is an American poet currently based out of Indianapolis. She is the author of “Mother Tongue” (Main Street Rag 2023). She earned her undergrad from Washington & Jefferson college and has an MFA in progress at IU. Professionally, she is a gemologist. 

This event is brought to you in part by grants provided by the Tennessee Arts Commission.

While this is a free event, donations can be made to Layla Lenhardt on CashApp at  laylalenhardt.poet@gmail.com and to the Sundress Academy for the Arts here: https://sundress-publications.square.site/product/donate-to-sundress/107?cs=true

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Affidavit by Starr Davis

This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Claudia Santos, is from Affidavit by Starr Davis (Hanging Loose Press 2026).

ZOOM COURT

and even
though it is
virtual, i still
cringe		the first time
seeing my
abuser’s face
since i left
him 5 months
ago		he is suing
me for our
pound a flesh,
a baby i never
thought i
would have		he is wearing
the shirt
i bought
him for our
maternity
photoshoot.		he is
confident. i
am not.
he knows this.
so, i already
know
i have lost.		i am miles
away from
him sitting in
an apartment
with pink
walls. i hate
pink.		but it made
the whole
house feel like
a nursery		secret: i
wanted the
house to
swaddle me		halfway
across the
country in the
middle of the
winter with a
newborn		back to the
women who
know me by
my scent
court isn’t a
new word for
us.		my mama
says, “back in
my day, a man
would just let
you leave.”		she is speaking
of my father.		when i tell
them i have
been served
and must
attend, not in-
person but via
zoom court
on video, they
all laugh and
ask me if i am
joking. in-
person		“this will
be over in 5
minutes,” a
lawyer assures
me.		i place a
sticky-note
over his face
on my laptop
screen.
the gallery
grid keeps
shifting as
people leave
the virtual
courtroom
as cases are
dismissed. this
will be me
soon, i think
to myself.		my little
human is with
someone safe,
somewhere
away from
me and our
nursery home.		the lawyer
encourages
me that i am
doing this for
her.		five months
postpartum,
i am still
squishy
around my
abdomen and
wet around
the nipple.		courts usually
rule in favor
of mothers,
all kinds of
people tell me.		he is younger
than me, my
abuser.
just a boy, my
grandmother
likes to
remind me.		what would
the difference
be, if i were
dealing with a
man?		a white
woman judge
confirms
sex is just a
construct.		she places
my body and
all things
belonging
under the
jurisdiction
of a purple
moon.		the sticky-
note falls off.		i see myself
on the screen,
crying beside
him.

Starr Davis (she/her) is a poet and essayist whose work has appeared in The Kenyon Review, Academy of American Poet’s Poem-a-Day, and The Rumpus. She was the 2024 Writing Freedom Fellow with Haymarket Books and the Mellon Foundation. 

Claudia Santos (she/her) is a Mexican reader and writer. She received the PECDA Colima 2024 writing grant for her non-fiction work and was a Sophia-FILCO Young Writers 2025 finalist for her poetry work. She is currently pursuing an MA in Children’s Literature as a EMJM scholarship recipient.


Meet Our New Intern: Greyson Finch

I grew up in the South. I’m sure you can imagine how that experience went for a young, autistic, trans man. My only escape was reading and my only form of expression was writing. Despite the love and acceptance I got from my mom, I struggled to form attachments to anyone other than fictional characters. By high school, I felt like my entire personality was a facade, an amalgamation of the people around me and the traits deemed “acceptable” by society. I couldn’t openly express myself and that repression started getting me into trouble.

My mind wandered and I found myself struggling to focus in class, too worried about what might happen if I ever dropped the mask. I stopped reading and writing. My grades plummeted and many of my teachers said I’d be lucky to graduate high school. They were almost right. I’d just barely finished the first three years of high school, passing classes by the skin of my teeth. Spring semester of my senior year, I was already flunking two classes. That was when COVID hit. All of the senior teachers bumped everyone’s grades up to passing and promised they wouldn’t go back down. They told us if we wanted better grades, we could attend Zoom classes during lockdown to improve them. I, however, was so burnt out by that point that the thought of doing so gave me panic attacks. Graduation rolled around and I was in the bottom of my class. I still graduated though!

After high school, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Everyone told me to “go to college” and “get a degree” and “do something meaningful with my life.” But I’d barely made it through high school and I couldn’t stand the thought of putting myself through that again. I worked a handful of dead-end jobs, got some tattoos, skated through life doing almost nothing. In 2021, I decided to apply to Cosmetology School. It was fun. It gave me something productive to fill my endless days. That experience made me fall in love with learning again.

I moved out of Oklahoma and up to Virginia with my parents in 2024 and started community college. I fell in love with writing again. I started writing more poetry, getting published in The Bloomin’ Onion and Wingless Dreamer. I graduated from community college in a year and transferred to a university, from which I will graduate at the end of 2026. My biggest dream in life is to write something that would make high school me feel seen and safe.

Greyson Finch (he/him) is a poet from Oklahoma. Throughout his life, he’s struggled with his mental health and childhood trauma while also growing up queer in the South. He uses that to write pieces that speak to the soul. Pieces that people like him can read to know they’re not alone. He’s been published in The Bloomin’ Onion and Wingless Dreamer. He can be found on twitter at @Greyson_Finch77 and Instagram at @greysonfinchwrites

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Affidavit by Starr Davis

This selection, chosen by Guest Editor Claudia Santos, is from Affidavit by Starr Davis (Hanging Loose Press 2026).

AFFIDAVIT I

I CONFIRM         I have never known any fathers. I do not know this one. Our union, like permission when it is not given, or communion when it is not blessed, was the closest I had come to trusting. The man I called father had fathered me from prison. His apostolic letters ministered to a place inside me that was animal, and wild. When you are Black you want to know what kind of slave your ancestors became. Conquerors or complacent. Killers or just killed. He told me nothing, just a few lines to a story, like a page torn out from an old book. Once he was released, no longer my pastor on paper, he gave me his eyes and then a number he never answered. He has never fathered again. We remain in good counsel as good friends, both of us being so experienced at abandonment the common bread we break is stale.

THUS,                      my child knows no father, the way in which my inner child knows no authority, the way in which the petitioner knows no love, the way in which the dead know no place, or a slave knows no name, or these eyes know no stars, or my spirit knows no truth outside the sun or moon being constant and everything else everchanging. And like Ishmael, who had never known his father outside of rose milk and his single mother’s prayer, my child will too, come to know an inheritance that only comes with a fatherless blessing.

I CERTIFY the last text received from the petitioner was in blood. The last child support payment was enough for a glass of wine. The last father I had was a false prophet. I am afraid of a second coming.

Starr Davis (she/her) is a poet and essayist whose work has appeared in The Kenyon Review, Academy of American Poet’s Poem-a-Day, and The Rumpus. She was the 2024 Writing Freedom Fellow with Haymarket Books and the Mellon Foundation. 

Claudia Santos (she/her) is a Mexican reader and writer. She received the PECDA Colima 2024 writing grant for her non-fiction work and was a Sophia-FILCO Young Writers 2025 finalist for her poetry work. She is currently pursuing an MA in Children’s Literature as a EMJM scholarship recipient.