Audre Lorde’s Unfinished Business: Working Through Religious Resistance to Cancer Treatment by Pamela Yetunde
“Audre Lorde’s Unfinished Business: Working Through Religious Resistance to Cancer Treatment” by Pamela Yetunde I, as a pastoral counselor and theologian, have had the privilege of reading through Black lesbian poet Audre Lorde’s journals and diaries archived at Spelman College in Atlanta, GA. Many people are acquainted with Lorde (1934-1992) through some of her more famous rally cry-quotes like, “The...
Copper by Caroline LeBlanc
“Copper” by Caroline LeBlanc A sculptor friend gave me his scraps of sheet copper although I had no immediate use for it. Still it shines, reddish, in the cellar after years of collecting cricket’s casings, after long summers of their rasping song. Even time has not dulled it, dry and wrapped tight in the dark, so no free elements oxidized it green or blue. Words can be like that, pristine as long as they are...
Contact Dance in the Mission District by Dawn Banghart
“Contact Dance in the Mission District” by Dawn Banghart She is there, sitting on the dance studio lower bleachers untying tennis shoe laces socks off, toes touching the rough paint chipped floor spandex tights snug at the knees, hugging her thick thighs a loose silk shirt swirls as she walks across the floor past us the small pod of early arrivals. She opens the windows and breeze rolls across her hand. We...
Practice by Alison Hicks
“Practice” by Alison Hicks The small precision: word matched to moment, finger placed squarely on the string, the pitch containing not only itself, but itself halved, and that halved, and again. Ratios that move the small bones of the ear translate resonance to the brain. Lives of sloppy shifts, wrong notes, mistakes in tonality. Late at night in the living room, try to make up for this. In your notebook, on...
Color Coded by Lauren Camp
“Color Coded” by Lauren Camp Since no one ever wanted to paint me, I took a brush elsewhere in the city— behind the white fence, into night. To my husband I said Find me there with the collapsible blue. What? he asked. Do I have to trail you through Dame’s rocket and upended furniture? I readied the skin and fat of my small piece of purpose, so tired of tallying a landscape to see it slung on screws for a...
. . .
What treasures are secreted in the deepest places, the bathys, and how will we recover their promise?
Submit Your Art & Writing to WAVES
. . . . . . . . .
where the water holds our stories and the waves lift them up
dip in and out throughout this twenty-four-hour summer wave cycle
August 8-9 | immersion | noon to noon EST
Recent From Waves
-
The Refracting Wave Jun 27, 2025
