a. benèt
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benetthewriter.bsky.social
a. benèt
@benetthewriter.bsky.social
94 followers 76 following 75 posts
poet. coffee lover. certified creative. MFA student
words in diodeeditions, crabapplelit, tinyspoonlitmag

https://sites.google.com/view/benetthewriter/home
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benetthewriter.bsky.social
a. benèt @benetthewriter.bsky.social · Nov 27
Finally posting one of my poems on here! Read the whole thing on Diode Poetry diodepoetry.com/benet_a/
Picture of a liquor store entrance with text that says on a trip to moonlite liquor I found belonging On a Trip to Moonlite Liquor, I Found Belonging We never had a place made for us. Hungry and unbreathing, I waited For my turn to jump the fence. At night, the back alley behind the house Became a graveyard for abandoned toys And bikes. The aim of four children Open to disobedience was the next street Over, Gribble. Even its name felt like blood In the mouth. We were snickering, pleased With our escape. Hunched over, our backs became sickle hooks. Curved blades Soon met straight knives. Their edges sharp
benetthewriter.bsky.social
i have two new poems in @honeyliterary.bsky.social newest issue!! www.honeyliterary.com/issue9/sex-t... this is really a dream journal of mine, i feel so full having my words featured here
Sex+: Two Pieces by A. Benét — Honey Literary
“My clothes feel too tight, they slip off / like oil.”
www.honeyliterary.com
March 5, 2025 at 4:15 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
Today was so off 😫 none of my students did the reading and I think we were all tired so discussion was non existent
February 4, 2025 at 7:45 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
lemme celebrate by buying some Cecred
February 3, 2025 at 6:15 AM
Reposted by a. benèt
csandell.bsky.social
I have a poem published in issue 5 of @newwordspress.bsky.social !
A Guide to Genderdeath you must surrender yourself to the night sky. lay on the cold desert sand, inhale the dry air; let your tongue crack, harden, it serves no purpose here. there are no words in english for our bodies. body is not the right word for body. we must make the language. you must feel the edge of your flesh, how the skin wants to peel, to follow the wind. release your flesh, let a gust haunt your molt, let it replace your breath, watch as it's carried and caught in the arms of a cactus. a body must know its beginning. a breeze does not know its end
January 28, 2025 at 3:35 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
Poets: how do you come up with prompts??
January 29, 2025 at 12:03 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
first day of teaching went so well! had a student compliment my syllabus 🫶🏾
January 22, 2025 at 12:06 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
thinking about sula today
January 19, 2025 at 10:24 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
Of course 🫶🏾
January 19, 2025 at 9:29 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
I would love to do a book club but ionknow
January 19, 2025 at 2:27 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
here’s what I’m reading for the first quarter of 2025
A background of mauve with red strawberries and the covers of three books. From left to right: Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice, Jazz by Toni Morrison, The Pisces by Melissa Broder
January 19, 2025 at 2:25 AM
Reposted by a. benèt
csandell.bsky.social
I have 3 poems published in Across the Margin! So grateful to Michael for accepting them!
Transfem Sonnet No. 9 3 pills swallowed dry by 6 a.m. 2 bottles atop overdue hospital bills join the collection I am curating in my buckled desk drawer. a surgeon draws dash lines where my future vagina will be. he is not in scrubs, but blue wranglers, laying on the bed holding a marker. my feet dangling beside his steel-toed work boots. cold wet kisses of ink, the clitoris outlined then erased with his spit. On Dysphoria in the united states it costs twenty-two thousand dollars for shoulder reduction surgery / my shoulders were scouted by high school football coaches / who said they were made / to tackle other men / that with the right training I could be / stronger than my brother / my shoulders ripped dresses in boutiques / boutique rhymes with petite on purpose / the woman who helped me pick out my first dress said my shoulders remind her / of her / brother who works on an oil rig / how everyday he is faced with the threat of death / by drowning / by a crane hook through the stomach / how everyday I am faced with the threat of death / by men confused at what I am / by men angry they are attracted to what I am / by men angry I am not attractive enough / there is not a precise word to describe the stares / of every person trying to solve my gender as though I am a penrose / I wear berets to cover the hair / thinning / on my scalp / I went wig shopping / and spent two hundred dollars / it is not my curls / my frizz / my hair / it sits bunched in the back of my closet / in the united states a hair transplant costs fifteen thousand dollars / I wear large sweaters to hide the pyramids that are my boobs / a lover once said they remind her of enlarged mosquito bites / another said they are the eighth wonder of the world / in the united states a breast augmentation costs twelve thousand dollars / Grief I ask the pastor what’s the shape of grief? he says, dull my child. grief is cramped as confession. the grate in the box the same as my mother’s rosacea. godlight catches the rose window, rays resembling the blonde wisps of her hair, my hair. the pastor whose breath is ash and absinthe recites blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. his hand circles my back, with one pat he leaves me on the pews. my brother says he is finding god and I never felt more distant to him. I ask him what if the afterlife is sorted by your death? if I died the same death would I reunite with our mother? he remains silent. in the church I think I hear the voice of god. it is a child.
January 19, 2025 at 1:39 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
Powerful as always! So excited that “On Dysphoria” is out in the world!
January 19, 2025 at 2:19 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
starting over on storygraph! follow me @ benetthewriter app.thestorygraph.com/profile/bene...
Sign In | The StoryGraphClose paneAccept and close
app.thestorygraph.com
January 19, 2025 at 2:16 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
I love this shift to physical media I’m seeing, even within myself. hopefully it turns into a bigger wave that pushes against relying on technology
January 11, 2025 at 4:42 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
got amazing poetry news today!
January 11, 2025 at 3:51 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
thinking about starting a book club (just for me) so I can be really intentional about broadening my reading
January 7, 2025 at 2:49 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
Where are the girlies watching A Different World now that they took it off max??
January 4, 2025 at 3:00 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
first rejection of the year 🎉 at least it was tiered
January 2, 2025 at 6:11 PM
Reposted by a. benèt
maggiesmithpoet.bsky.social
Lucille Clifton, always.
“i am running into a new year” by Lucille Clifton i am running into a new year and the old years blow back like a wind that i catch in my hair like strong fingers like all my old promises and it will be hard to let go of what i said to myself about myself when i was sixteen and twenty-six and thirty-six even thirty-six but i am running into a new year and i beg what i love and i leave to forgive me
December 30, 2024 at 12:00 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
😫 thank you! 4 books in 2 days is a lot!
December 29, 2024 at 6:57 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
I need to get like you! I’m trying to finish 3 books and am fighting for my life
December 29, 2024 at 6:35 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
Do you mind giving some examples of how they’re investing in this? Wanna share with my community!
December 29, 2024 at 3:43 PM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
literally said I unsubscribed from New Year’s resolutions and then made a whole bingo card of goals
a man in a suit is looking over his shoulder in a blurry photo
ALT: a man in a suit is looking over his shoulder in a blurry photo
media.tenor.com
December 29, 2024 at 1:34 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
also said “there is no space for shame or regret in my life” and stayed true to that because my forthcoming (manifesting) chapbook is all about exploring one’s desires openly, without shame
December 29, 2024 at 12:33 AM
benetthewriter.bsky.social
reading my year compass from the end of 2022 is not for the weak

“I forgive myself for letting my loneliness make me feel worthless.”
December 29, 2024 at 12:31 AM