Undoing Entropy
“To come together…is to remember all that we forget to tell ourselves when we are working alone.” —Camille Endacott, Q partner and graduate student studying organizational communication It takes effort to gather– undoing entropy always does. To come together, though, is to remember all that we forget to tell ourselves when we are working alone. To gather with others is to remember who we are as creative people and to...
Miraculum Monstrum by Kathline Carr
“Miraculum Monstrum by Kathline Carr is a remarkably inventive, audacious debut collection that unfolds as poems, stories, fragments, drawings, paintings, mixed media pieces, and quotes to document and illustrate the life of Tristia Vogel, a visual artist who transforms dramatically and traumatically into a bird, and becomes an unintentional prophet. . . . This book is a unique and brilliant contribution to contemporary dystopic...
“Grow Heavy,” by Leigh Claire Schmidli
First rule, he makes sure to look in the lady’s eyes when he smiles. Second, he crinkles his like Clint Eastwood. Tonight, many nights, he practices his smile in the tri-fold mirror, locks the bathroom door so his four-year-old can’t get in. He thinks of that Eastwood who could swagger about with a rifle in hand, but could also touch a lady, tender, at the small of her back. Who could work rugged days, eyes creased by the sun, but...
“Flight Theory,” by Allison Adair
[ezcol_1quarter] Wstawaj, don’t speak, he will wake, and come for you. My hand over your mouth is our goodbye. His black feathers stir, no wind, oil upon oil, his long beak shines. Take this, I have saved it all slowly in a shoe, zrób co mówię, lodge it in the gathers at your waist and never exhale. Run, road to station to the dim nodding ship. Szybko. You will know no one. If you hear me calling you, moja córka, close the door to us....
“The Immaculate Heart of Mary,” by Ingrid Jendrzejewski
Steel City, 1910 Magda descends on Polish Hill like so much of the metal whose siren song lured our fathers and grandfathers away from their matki and motherland. Within a week, she is selling newspapers on the street corners. Within two, she has us organised. We wear our brothers’ clothing, we cut our hair. She teaches us to spit; we forget our breasts. She brings us papers and we sell them. We take our pennies, she takes a...
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
The Q: What echoes through you that longs to take form—a poem, an image, a mark, a whisper of becoming?
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fathoms Feb 28, 2026 -
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