Sundress Reads: Review of While Visiting Babette

Header reading "Sundress Reads" in black with the Sundress logo. There's an illustration on the left of a sheep, wearing glasses and holding a book in the hand on the right and a teacup in the left. The sheep is sitting on a stool.
Book Cover of While Visiting Babette. There's an illustration of a barred window over a light beige background. The title "While Visiting Babette" is in forest green block letters over the window. Below the window is another black rectangle with the author's name "Kat Meads" written inside in white block letters.

Kat Meads’s While Visiting Babette (Sagging Meniscus Press, 2025) is a surreal magnifying glass, trained on institutionalized cousins Ina and Babette. With a talent for lyrical prose and an intriguing premise, Meads hooks readers with the promise of boundless potential from the very first paragraph and very aptly delivers. Imbued with a dreamlike quality, exacerbated by the element of institutionalization, While Visiting Babette evokes the mood of a fairytale gone wrong—a single, unassuming mistake starting a catastrophic domino effect.

Visiting Babette in whichever institution she resides in is routine to Ina, a regular activity despite the changing locations. On her latest visit, however, an oversight leads to irreversible consequences. Finding no one at the registration desk to confirm her relation to Babette, Ina foregoes waiting for a visitor’s pass and heads straight to Babette’s room.

A brief lockdown ensues, trapping Ina momentarily with Babette, but it is her “rookie mistake” (Meads 8) of running as soon staff unlock the doors again which seals her fate. Mistaken for a patient attempting an escape, she is locked in a room of her own. From thereon, the novella follows Ina and Babette, from Ina’s perspective, as the two cousins interact with other women, live at the institution, and weather controlled chaos.

Meads’s storytelling is enchanting due to its brilliant technique of feeding the reader just enough input to be tantalizing, a delicate balance in the space between repetitive and perplexing. We do not know why any of the characters are institutionalized, least of all Babette or Ina. It is up to the reader to question why Ina would’ve been kept at the facility at all past the initial misunderstanding; but because we do not see the process in between her attempt to run for it and her stay in a room of her own the next day, we are left to question whether the staff had evaluated her or simply decided she would stay on the grounds of their presumption. Meads writes:

“For instance, since arriving and being unable to leave, Ina had been led to believe that her tendency to dart and dash as well as her fear of windows could be overcome. […] The dart and dash stuff she rather enjoyed, though. The dart and dash reflex she would rather retain.” (71)

This is only one of the details Meads leaves up to the readers, merely giving us hints later that Ina may indeed be in the facility for a reason.

As the story unfolds, so do the layers of Ina and Babette’s backstory—we learn they’re orphans, that they stayed with an “Aunt Careen,” but beyond that, very little is clearly stated, creating a fitting unmoored effect for the reader, which marries nicely with what Ina must feel as a new resident at the facility. Adding to the isolated, dissociated mood of the story is Meads’s choice of showing us only a few of the women in the facility from a removed and limited perspective.

Interactions with characters like Clara, one of the residents and a writer of stories she likes to read to the others, reveal more information about the cousins: “They had no mothers, only aunts. As such they were perhaps not the best audience for mother mocking stories” (Meads 19). The small cast of characters we get to witness, due to our witnessing of them through Ina’s perspective and our limited understanding of them, serve Ina’s, and by extension, Babette’s characterization more than their own.

Ina and Babette’s “mind reading” is also a strong nuance, emphasizing the cousins’ connection in a tonally cohesive technique, but more importantly, highlighting their differences. Babette comes across as more assured, more mature while Ina seems to retain a more childlike quality.

“Babette had seen in-house plays performed previously but this was Ina’s first in-house theatre experience. She was not optimistic. …

“Yes, we have to stay,” Babette whispered.

“I know that!” Ina hissed.

When Babette read her thoughts, she should read all of them.” (Meads 53-54)

What makes Ina’s and Babette’s characterization particularly intriguing is the way Meads intertwines plot and character into a seamless tapestry. The nature of who they are steers the plot more than any external force. Meads’s handling of time is equally masterful, guiding readers forward despite the floating quality of the character-centric plot. One such example is immersing the reader in Ina’s perception of the passage of time as she takes a test at the facility:

“The proctor’s face offered no clues either way but her index finger twice tapped her wristwatch. Reminding Ina that she was on the clock did nothing to hasten her responses, but the warning did send her into a memory warp that wasted several additional answering minutes.” (Meads 74)

Meads proceeds to take us along said memory, allowing us to settle into Ina’s experience.

It is then entirely unsurprising that While Visiting Babette’s pace is exemplary for its particular plot. Short, punchy chapters make for perfect readability. Coupled with Meads’s talent for prose, with phrases like, “Although she was shrinking and Babette expanding” (Meads 45), this is a book you can easily read in a day (or one sitting if you have time)!

While Visiting Babette is a book readers will think about days after they’ve finished reading it, reflecting on its nuances and happily accepting Kat Meads’s invitation to wonder about her characters, their mystical world, and the untethered facility tinged with darkness.

While Visiting Babette is available through Sagging Meniscus Press


Headshot of brown woman of Middle Eastern/North African descent against a bluish-lavender background. She wears a greyish navy hijab (headscarf), silver earrings, and a white jacket with silver buttons.

Tassneem Abdulwahab (she/her) is an aspiring writer and editor with a BA (Hons) Creative and Professional Writing from UWE Bristol. With a strong interest in culture, history, and psychology and a love for fiction, her writing often draws on one or more of these threads to tell character-centric stories. Trained in oil painting, she recently exhibited and sold two portrait paintings in February 2025. In her free time, you can find her buying more books (no, seriously—she owns three editions of Little Women), snapping pictures of the little details, or sitting at her easel.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: The Velvet Book by Rae Gouirand


This selection, chosen by guest editor Shira Haus, is from The Velvet Book by Rae Gouirand (Cornerstone Press, 2024).

The Velvet Book

Is it bright ahead? Enthusiastic? Yes and dark.

From Old Provençal via vulgar Latin
diminutive of shaggy cloth, nap of cloth, tuft

of hair, vellus, fleece, suffixed form of
*wel to tear, to pull, see svelte which evokes

lengthened, pulled, plucked. A certain kind
of night. I’ve read a little of velvet transparent,

breath held for air liased through it.
Devoré, burned out. Embossed, hammered,

mirror velvet, nacré like shot silk
its iridescence bolts in two directions at once,

pile on pile, Utrecht, voided, and
wedding ring, a chiffon type fine enough

to be drawn through that blinking.
All catalogued, like that shade of just-past violet

as night snaps. Velvet is back
the announcement. Arguing the pile,

the plush, the tongue upon
the back. Some suggestion of a likening,

the loops of the warp thread
left exposed. The soft, deciduous covering

of a growing antler
copper umber and lawn. Sixteen I was night.

When I reached back I felt
my path advance. Thought of what always meant.

That fruition. Lucre. Gravy.
Beetles’ shades flying. Everything raised

the only question towards what.
Again and again short fibers between sense

and sensing. Where does
out start. What is velvet but:

before the limit something begins.


Rae Gouirand is also the author of two collections of poetry, Glass is Glass Water is Water (2018) and Open Winter (winner of the Bellday Prize, 2011), the chapbooks Rough Sequence (winner of the Keystone Chapbook Award, 2023), Little Hour (winner of the Swan Scythe Chapbook Contest, 2022), Jinx (winner of the Summer Kitchen Competition, 2019), and Must Apple (winner of the Oro Fino Competition, 2018), and a short work of nonfiction, The History of Art (winner of The Atlas Review’s Open Reading Competition, 2019). Her work has appeared in American Poetry Review, Bateau, Beloit Poetry Journal, Bennington Review, Boston Review, Conjunctions, Crazyhorse, Foglifter, The Iowa Review, jubilat, The Kenyon Review, the Lambda Literary Poetry Spotlight, Michigan Quarterly Review, [PANK], Quarterly West, The Rumpus, Spinning Jenny, Under a Warm Green Linden, VOLT, ZYZZYVA, two volumes of the Best New Poets series, Please Excuse This Poem: 100 New Poems for the Next Generation, Queer Nature: A Poetry Anthology, and many other journals and anthologies nationwide. She leads several longrunning independent workshops in northern California and online, including the cross-genre workshop Scribe Lab, and lectures in the Department of English at the University of California-Davis.


Shira Leah Haus (she/her) is a queer, antizionist Jewish writer from Michigan. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Poetry Magazine, Passages North, Poetry Northwest, and wildness, among others. She has received support from the Napa Valley Writers’ Conference and placed third in the 2024 Pinch Literary Awards for poetry.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: The Velvet Book by Rae Gouirand


This selection, chosen by guest editor Shira Haus, is from The Velvet Book by Rae Gouirand (Cornerstone Press, 2024).

The Velvet Book

Seering flare for deeper pitch,
flashbulb for sudden ink, stress for disintegration

for the glint that erupts—
dazzle to curse to rupture to rush

changing pulse, simultaneous,
each new to the other. Each a change.

If I vowed I would speak
all words at once. All the speakable words

after a silence as long as all
the unspeakable words lined up one by one like

a line. Words are all words
at once. Silences one word at a time.

At a time is the life of velvet.
I am relentless remembering it,

scribbled across my own pile.
Face or stain I cannot choose. Each learns,

each leans. I am my own body
inside this, finishing. I make myself available

as a hunger would for naming.
Velvet for the structure not the fiber.

The reach of the surface toward
every mote floating. Is it any matter

we say fabric of the time as it blinks,
shakes, shimmers, climbs behind the drapes.

See it there climbing.
Most of the time since its invention

we’ve preferred something else
yet the pull asserts, late August on a plane

a heavy white spine glossed against
the thigh, the start of a dream about cold, about

color, about puncture, about capture
by one unable to look away from the deep

and deepening folds of the coat
saturated ahead of us. Velvet how deep

we soak, how hard we press
the pen, how thoroughly we test

the argument. The whole of it.


Rae Gouirand is also the author of two collections of poetry, Glass is Glass Water is Water (2018) and Open Winter (winner of the Bellday Prize, 2011), the chapbooks Rough Sequence (winner of the Keystone Chapbook Award, 2023), Little Hour (winner of the Swan Scythe Chapbook Contest, 2022), Jinx (winner of the Summer Kitchen Competition, 2019), and Must Apple (winner of the Oro Fino Competition, 2018), and a short work of nonfiction, The History of Art (winner of The Atlas Review’s Open Reading Competition, 2019). Her work has appeared in American Poetry Review, Bateau, Beloit Poetry Journal, Bennington Review, Boston Review, Conjunctions, Crazyhorse, Foglifter, The Iowa Review, jubilat, The Kenyon Review, the Lambda Literary Poetry Spotlight, Michigan Quarterly Review, [PANK], Quarterly West, The Rumpus, Spinning Jenny, Under a Warm Green Linden, VOLT, ZYZZYVA, two volumes of the Best New Poets series, Please Excuse This Poem: 100 New Poems for the Next Generation, Queer Nature: A Poetry Anthology, and many other journals and anthologies nationwide. She leads several longrunning independent workshops in northern California and online, including the cross-genre workshop Scribe Lab, and lectures in the Department of English at the University of California-Davis.


Shira Leah Haus (she/her) is a queer, antizionist Jewish writer from Michigan. Her work appears or is forthcoming in Poetry Magazine, Passages North, Poetry Northwest, and wildness, among others. She has received support from the Napa Valley Writers’ Conference and placed third in the 2024 Pinch Literary Awards for poetry.


The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness


This selection, chosen by guest editor nat raum, is from A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness (Porkbelly Press, 2024).

THE TALES

The sleeping princess, the
charming prince, the beast
transformed. The hope
that evil can be overcome,
that all wounds can be healed.
That transformation will bring joy.

                                      The princess trapped in a glass coffin,
                                      hands imprisoned by an unknown prince.
                                      The pale girl kneeling before a frozen queen,
                                      thinking of a robber girl. A barefoot maiden
                                      chasing a transformed bear, her feet
                                      trailing drops of blood. The princess
                                      sullen at her grand window,
                                      laughing only when she sees
                                      peasants tied to a golden goose
                                      unable to free their hands.


Mari Ness lives in central Florida, and has sometimes been spotted talking to live oak trees. Other work appears in multiple zines and anthologies, including Reactor, Clarkesworld, Uncanny, LIghtspeed, Nightmare, Nature Futures, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Baffling, Strange Horizons and Haven Spec. Mari has also been a finalist for the Hugo and Canopus Awards, and won the 2021 Outwrite Fiction Award.


nat raum (b. 1996) is a queer disabled artist, writer, and editor based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. They hold an MFA from the University of Baltimore and a BFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Past and upcoming publishers of their work include Poet Lore, beestung, Baltimore Beat, Split Lip Magazine, BRUISER, and others. Find them online at natraum.com.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness


This selection, chosen by guest editor nat raum, is from A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness (Porkbelly Press, 2024).

DAPHNE IV

Or was this just the story told
by a splendid god, careful
of his tales? Did she instead
hide deep within the woods,
deep within a lake,
until the god had found
another target to shoot?
Did he lie to himself,
thinking that
the laurels trembled
for him,
and not for the wind,
the ceaseless wind,
and the people wandering
nearby,
their hands brushing
the bark of trees?


Mari Ness lives in central Florida, and has sometimes been spotted talking to live oak trees. Other work appears in multiple zines and anthologies, including Reactor, Clarkesworld, Uncanny, LIghtspeed, Nightmare, Nature Futures, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Baffling, Strange Horizons and Haven Spec. Mari has also been a finalist for the Hugo and Canopus Awards, and won the 2021 Outwrite Fiction Award.


nat raum (b. 1996) is a queer disabled artist, writer, and editor based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. They hold an MFA from the University of Baltimore and a BFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Past and upcoming publishers of their work include Poet Lore, beestung, Baltimore Beat, Split Lip Magazine, BRUISER, and others. Find them online at natraum.com.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness


This selection, chosen by guest editor nat raum, is from A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness (Porkbelly Press, 2024).

LAURELS

Sometimes the memories come in the rain:
the cry of voices, the play of dolls,
the taste of honey, the chill of springs —
the feral dancing, breast to breast,
the shining menace of the archer’s bow —
the wild spinning swirling seizing winds,
the cold soft mud stealing their feet,
the rough salt winds laughing at their newborn leaves.
Raindrops serve as mortal tears, though
they shake and laugh, and laugh and shake,
push their roots into earth so deep,
and reach out branches to sister mortals, sister trees,
the caress of leaves so sweet, so sweet —
so much more than the touch of gods.


Mari Ness lives in central Florida, and has sometimes been spotted talking to live oak trees. Other work appears in multiple zines and anthologies, including Reactor, Clarkesworld, Uncanny, LIghtspeed, Nightmare, Nature Futures, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Baffling, Strange Horizons and Haven Spec. Mari has also been a finalist for the Hugo and Canopus Awards, and won the 2021 Outwrite Fiction Award.arious awards, including the Rhysling, Dwarf Stars, Elgin and Canopus.


nat raum (b. 1996) is a queer disabled artist, writer, and editor based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. They hold an MFA from the University of Baltimore and a BFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Past and upcoming publishers of their work include Poet Lore, beestung, Baltimore Beat, Split Lip Magazine, BRUISER, and others. Find them online at natraum.com.

Sundress Academy for the Arts Presents November Poetry Xfit

The Sundress Academy for the Arts is excited to present Poetry Xfit hosted by Brynn Martin. This generative workshop event will take place on Sunday, November 30th, 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!

A white woman with blonde curly hair stands in front of a gray wall. She wears a light blue t-shirt and a gold pendant necklace while staring into the camera.

Brynn Martin (she/her) is a Midwesterner at heart, but she has spent the last decade living in Knoxville, where she received her MFA in poetry from the University of Tennessee. She is an Associate Editor for Sundress Publications and the event manager for an indie bookstore. Her poetry has appeared in Contrary Magazine, Rogue Agent, FIVE:2:ONE, and Crab Orchard Review, among others.

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 the Sundress Academy for the Arts here.

Sundress Academy for the Arts Presents “The Intersection of Religion and Mental Health in Poetry: A Generative Workshop”

The Sundress Academy for the Arts is excited to present “The Intersection of
Religion and Mental Health in Poetry,” a workshop led by Maya Williams on Wednesday,
November 12th 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).


Regardless of the religious, nonreligious, irreligious, or spiritual worldview we identify with, the culture of religion continues to be an influence on people’s mental health. We
will look at poetry by Adrienne Novy, Eugenia Leigh, and Maya Williams to learn how
suicidality, spiritual bypassing, and religious related trauma in poetics can impact us. We will
also make time to write in response to prompts inspired by the poems.

While there is no fee to participate in this workshop, those who are able and appreciative may
make donations directly to Maya Williams via Venmo: @MayaWilliams16.

Maya Williams

Maya Williams (ey/they/she) is a religious Black multiracial nonbinary suicide survivor who was selected as Portland, ME’s seventh poet laureate for a July 2021 to July 2024 term. Eir debut poetry collection, Judas & Suicide (Game Over Books, 2023), was selected as a finalist for a New England Book Award. Their second poetry collection, Refused a Second Date (Harbor Editions, 2023), was selected as a finalist for a Maine Literary Award. Their third poetry collection, What’s So Wrong with a Pity Party Anyway?, was selected as one of four winners of Garden Party Collective’s chapbook prize in 2024.

This event is brought to you by a grant provided by the Tennessee Arts Commission.

Sundress Reads: Review of Becoming Sam

Sundress Reads logo: a bespectacled sheep sits on a stool and reads a book while drinking a cup of tea.
Book cover depicting two mangos on a beige background.

The Sri Lankan Civil War, beginning in 1983 and ending in 2009, was fought between the Sri Lankan Government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Elam (LTTE), a Tamil group that rose up in an attempt to establish their own independent state experiencing discrimination and frequent violent persecution. Ultimately, the LTTE were unsuccessful, and the Sri Lankan government has since faced numerous accusations of genocide, war crimes, and other atrocities. Against mounting evidence, the Sri Lankan government maintains they did nothing wrong.

This is the backdrop of Samodh Porawagamage’s Becoming Sam (Burnside Review, 2024) which is sweet, devastating, and always insightful. This poetry collection is split into three parts: “Malli Playing by a Mossy Stone” recounts scenes from Porawagamage’s childhood in Sri Lanka; “Peeling the Mango” grapples with his life as an immigrant in the United States; “The Monsoons” contains reflections on post-colonialism.

Porawagamage remarkably embodies the situation that inspired his book. Take, for example, the short, searing poem, “A Killing.” Porawagamage writes recalling the immediate aftermath of a theft:

“…When the police

brought Lizzy to sniff him down,

I patted her in secret.

Then we all ran after her

crossing the road to a large

garbage bin. She sent it

flying, snatched in her mouth

a stray cat by the neck, shook

it once. Twice. The nine lives

convulsed like the night sky

shot by thunderbolts.” (26)

 On the surface, the poem recounts what would be, to a child’s mind, a thrilling, almost adventurous memory. But taken in the political context of Porawagamage’s childhood, it is darkly suggestive, and an excellent exercise in metaphor. The police dog, rather than capturing the one responsible, kills a being that had nothing to do with the real crime. It perfectly symbolizes how government authorities we are taught to trust from a young age eventually reveal themselves as needlessly—one could even say extrajudicially—violent.

Elsewhere in the first part of the book, poems like “The Afterlife of Cut Hair” play into the casual absurdism of a child’s mind. “On the last day of middle school,” a presumably young Porawagamage watches a barber’s “delicate hands cut a girl’s hair like he is / preparing salad for dinner” (23). Porawagamage confesses, “Once I thought / the barbers sold cut hair to make / Bombay Muttai,” a Sri Lankan type of cotton candy (23). In the last lines of the poem, when his family flies to the Indian city of Chennai—the largest city in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, which is a massive cultural center for Tamils—he receives “a special / kids’ meal for free. It tasted like uprooted hair / poorly fried in a barber’s soothing gel” (23). The image of hair being turned into a dessert, and then finally eaten, reminds me of the way little kids fixate on seemingly ridiculous, almost psychedelic, ideas. But, as with “A Killing,” there are subtleties here that give the poem a profound emotional resonance. Porawagamage’s choice of the word “uprooted” suggests that maybe his family was fleeing increasing violence in Sri Lanka. The juxtaposition between the hair being “poorly fried” in “soothing gel” turns a whimsical description of mediocre tasting food into a solemn moment when a sweet treat isn’t enough to distract a child from the troubling reality they are stuck in.

My favorite poem in the collection, “Everywhere Love Songs,” comes in the “Peeling the Mango” section and is split into two parts. The first, “The Kid and the Beetle,” features a grown Porawagamage on his “way to teach love poetry” (48). Ahead of him, a little boy walks holding his mother’s hand, but then stops and points at the ground between him and Porawagamage. There’s a black beetle on the ground. Porawagamge writes:

“He gives me a half-toothless smile and burst of vigorous nods and

then demonstrates how to jump over it.

I give him two thumbs-up and take a longer path to class.” (48)

Honestly, I just found the presence of this scene, so simple, so sweet, in a book that deals with prejudice and violence to be nothing less than life-affirming. The real coup de grâce, though, comes in the second part, “Later That Night at the Bar.” “A middle-aged ‘Jim’” pours his heart out to Porawagamage about how the woman he loves is married to another man and has given birth to his children (49). He asks, guilt ridden, if Porawagamage things “he’s an obsessed voyeur” (49). After buying him some chips, Porawagamage tells him:

“Appreciating a

flower without plucking it takes a special kind of courage. I also tell him

about the kid and struggle to construct his as an act of love.

He laughs and tells me that I don’t sound or act like an Indian….Later, the barmaid tells me Jim had

already paid for everything I bought that night.” (49)

We have these two men sharing a beautiful scene, only to have one of them act in a racist, ignorant way towards Porawagamage. Rather than explicating on it, Porawagamage wisely just leaves the dilemma in the air: Jim was obviously kind, at least in some capacity, and even acted generously towards Porawagamage. How does that square with his other behavior? How is Porawagamage supposed to feel? How is the reader supposed to feel? It’s the type of emotional ambiguity that gets under your skin and stays there.

The third and final section of the book sees Porawagamage excavate aspects of Sri Lanka that have stayed under his skin, to glorious results. The poem “In a Democratic Socialist Republic” is, frankly, the best piece of recent protest art I’ve encountered in quite a long time. While “the Police…ever so kind, / massage our rebellious heads / with cushioned batons” the speaker sees “in a ditch  / the goddess of law— / that good-for-nothing whore / pleading for her life” (80). The poem ends as the speaker climbs “a rusty ladder / one rung at a time / to another Democratic / Socialist planet / only visible / in the dark / at night” (81). It’s the kind of poem that contains all the living energy of an ongoing struggle, and though it may have been written with Sri Lanka specifically in mind, anyone angry at their government is sure to find it invigorating.

These are just some of the many jewels to be found in this relentlessly vivid and incisive collection of poetry. Throughout, there are intense, personal poems about survivor’s guilt, longing, and love. And in the end, it is author’s honest reflections on his own encounters with violence and colonialism that should make Becoming Sam a cherished classic. It displays the talents and fragments of the life a poet who is a master of his art without ever coming across as artificial. Poems like that are, at least for me, why I read poetry in the first place.

Becoming Sam is available from Burnside Review


Joseph Norris has brown hair and stands in front of book shelves.

Joseph Norris graduated with a BFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College in May of 2025. He has had short stories and poems published in Gauge Magazine, Emerson Green Mag, and won the Humans of the World Summer Poetry Prize. He lives in Berkeley, California with his girlfriend, Macie, and their cat, Dory, and is learning how to play the guitar and the banjolin.

The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness


This selection, chosen by guest editor nat raum, is from A Few Mythic Paths by Mari Ness (Porkbelly Press, 2024).

CYPRESS

These are woods with no clear paths,
only standing water between the trees,
hiding the heavy muds. These are woods
where insects scream, and black beasts wait
beneath the heavy leaves, their jaws
ready to seize a foot or hand.
These are woods where the lost
cannot soon be found.

These are woods where herons rest
and suddenly rise between the trees
on slow and silent wings. These are woods
where bright orchids spring
from corners dank with mud. These are woods
where one can hide. That catch the wind.
where silence
can be found.


Mari Ness lives in central Florida, and has sometimes been spotted talking to live oak trees. Other work appears in multiple zines and anthologies, including Reactor, Clarkesworld, Uncanny, LIghtspeed, Nightmare, Nature Futures, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Baffling, Strange Horizons and Haven Spec. Mari has also been a finalist for the Hugo and Canopus Awards, and won the 2021 Outwrite Fiction Award.


nat raum (b. 1996) is a queer disabled artist, writer, and editor based on unceded Piscataway and Susquehannock land in Baltimore. They hold an MFA from the University of Baltimore and a BFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art. Past and upcoming publishers of their work include Poet Lore, beestung, Baltimore Beat, Split Lip Magazine, BRUISER, and others. Find them online at natraum.com.