I loathe most insta-poetry. It is lazy, trite, & simple, but it aims gleefully at the heart, and there's something nice human about that.

I myself prefer decadent, maze-like language. I want to work for my epiphanies.

And so I find myself negotiating with my heart & intellect

As an editor, I get tons of submissions.

Some tell sweet, nostalgic little stories. They might use a cliche here or there, kinda corny AF, and frankly, the poem might be too safe with that little ribbon bow — but it's human and it speaks to me. I can't deny that.

Then I also get the MFA poems, the ones that are born out of a school of voice and sound and are either homogenized or narrowly escaping the homogeny of "this is how you write great poetry." SIGH.

They can be cringe but they can also be solid. I got an MFA, & I WAS TEMPTED.

then....I get the poems I love. My submitters know me.

The ones that feel haughty and dangerous, like beautiful little knives. They cut you and confuse you, all while slathering you in floral pomade and sea water. I realize this tweet is ridiculous.

My point is: as editor of @LunaLunaMag
I cannot JUST publish what I like. I have to make space for different voices & sounds and levels of experience.

But then I grapple with myself: It IS mine. I can do what I want with it.

Then how would that look? Like a playground of me?

In the end, I think my goal — and this is ME; I personally recommend every editor do what they want — is to try and step outside of my own aesthetic box, and breath and make space for things other people might like. For diversity. For new sounds.

It helps to have a discerning eye, to not publish straight-up garbage (of course), but to know that the lens thru which I see is not the only lens.

So, you know, thank you for all the poems. Thank you for all the experiences <3