
Every day brings a new atrocity—and a new justification. A poem about noise, lies, and refusing to mistake exhaustion for consent.

One Year, One Book, No Excuses. Today I turn 39, and I’m officially putting the universe on notice: by the time I turn 40, I’m publishing a book. Not thinking about it, not quietly tinkering while making excuses. A real book. With my name on the cover. Something you can hold, read, spill coffee on,…