Sarah Kay
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kaysarahsera.bsky.social
Sarah Kay
@kaysarahsera.bsky.social
950 followers 69 following 8 posts
Poet at large https://sites.prh.com/sarah-kay-holiday-preorder
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kaysarahsera.bsky.social
First time sharing poems in Tempe, AZ tonight! Free! www.changinghands.com/event/april2...
April 18, 2025 at 6:09 PM
kaysarahsera.bsky.social
I’m performing in 7 cities this spring! Each ticket gets you a signed copy of A LITTLE DAYLIGHT LEFT in collaboration w/ a local book seller + a night of poetry, performance, & all the special guests I can sneak in + book-personalizing + my undying gratitude! Please come! kaysarahsera.com/booktour/
March 3, 2025 at 5:42 PM
kaysarahsera.bsky.social
Hello if you preorder my book this week I will send you a personalized/handwritten postcard to say thank you! (Or order the book for a loved one & I’ll send them a postcard to tell them someone is thinking of them!) I love postcards, I love preorders, & I love giving poetry as gifts!💌 bit.ly/3ZqswOZ
December 9, 2024 at 10:42 PM
kaysarahsera.bsky.social
Thinking again about this Tonya Ingram poem.
Until the Stars Collapse you owe it to yourself to quit being the apology. to hold your hand and sing your favorite song. to love another and see how far that will go. to love yourself and forget where you were headed in the first place. love is a funny story. it wakes up and builds a plot. it wakes up and shapes you into the kind of woman your mother studies. i am not perfect in it. i am not even remotely articulate. but it is big, this love. it is airborne and triumphant. i am no easy show. i hurt like the climb of my lineage. i hurt on purpose. i hurt to not be hurt. no, none of this is an excuse. just a blueprint. a map. come find me when the day is bronze and the sorrow is full. i am building my poem in this here heart. all of it is a working title. by Tonya Ingram
December 9, 2024 at 2:16 AM
kaysarahsera.bsky.social
December again 🩵
WINTER WITHOUT YOU Tonight, Brooklyn was so cold, it pulled itself a little closer to Manhattan just to have something warm to lie next to. Earlier this week, I stacked a pile of laundry fresh from the drier and dove in it like it was autumn leaves, like I thought I could stop the fading, could keep the colors if I held them in my hands. Winter has arrived like the stray cat who patrols my neighborhood— annoyed by my foolish surprise at its sudden appearance. My building's Super rang my doorbell this afternoon and came in to change the knob on my heater. I greeted him In flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt. Oh, thank goodness, I laughed. The heat has been clanking all night, and it keeps me awake. He considered the pile of unfolded laundry and 1 PM pajamas. Just you? He asked. Just me. It is December, and nobody asked if I was ready. (from No Matter the Wreckage) by Sarah Kay
December 1, 2024 at 5:33 PM