Category Archives: Sound of the Underland

Woman in Two Parts

A poem in two voices, two bodies, and one shared inheritance.
Woman in Two Parts explores identity beyond binaries—through violence, transition, reclamation, and radical self-love.

Where one part breaks, the other rebuilds.
Where one erases, the other remembers.
Together, they ask: what remains of “woman” when the world tries to define her for you?

Dispatches from the Void. X.I

Rain, rabies, and ridiculous returns. This week’s mood? Bureaucratic despair with a side of soggy capitalism. But hey—we’re still packing, still protesting, and still clinging to the dream (and maybe a cat).

Akuntsu. Say My Name.

This is a grave marker for a language no longer spoken. A final breath, a farewell carried in the voice of Akuntsu — a people erased, a tongue unrecorded. There are no archives, no recordings, no translations. Just this. A voice remembering its speaker. A name that still echoes.

FAce-lIft Continuation XXIV: Lino Arruda

I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.

FAce-lIft Continuation XXIII: Awanqi

I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.

FAce-lIft Continuation XXIII: William Eggleston

I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.

Spotted Lanternfly

River’s poem begins with the stomp of a shoe on a lanternfly and spirals into something deeper—an uncomfortable, necessary meditation on violence, permission, and the human instinct to other. It’s not light-hearted. It’s not supposed to be.

#poetry #Spillwords #lanternflypoem #queerpoets #neurodivergentwriting #humancondition #resistcruelty #UnderlandPress

Dispatches from the Void. V.II

This week in Underland: emotions ran high, the zine went live, and the cats were… unimpressed.

Poe staged a silent protest over font choices, Akela launched a full investigation into the suspicious movement of the red chair, and Mowgli may or may not have forgiven Rodgit (the jury is still napping).

Also, we might be moving. Probably. Eventually.

Family Values

Family Values is a quiet reckoning in free verse — a poem about the people who watch from the sidelines, silent in their surveillance, absent in their care. It turns the old saying on its head, tracing the cold metrics of modern connection through graphs, likes, and creeping. This piece confronts the gap between visibility and support, and what it means when the people who should know you best… choose not to.