Tess Ezzy



Skim stone stim rock: Towards a stim poetics

Poetry has always known what neurodivergent readers know in the body. Anaphora, refrain, the rocking of metre, the flick and return of the pantoum: these are the motions a stimming body makes. The hand at the wrist, the rocking at the hips, the phrase said over and over under the breath until it goes soft at the edges. And yet criticism, for the most part, treats repetition as a device. It is catalogued as technique, praised as emphasis, diagnosed as excess when there is too much of it. What it is almost never called is what it so often is: regulation.

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POLLY POCKET

Hush. I want to tell you about the queen. She is the size of a thumbnail. She lives in a shell the size of my palm. She has a bed with a coverlet painted on, a pond with fish painted …

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The Unfinished Endnotes of Forgotten Rituals Compiled in Transit by Those Who Left

[1] Thumbprint in Dough as Homeland. Recorded on the back of a shipping manifest. The recipe lost. The gesture remains. Each loaf shaped like a prayer that never quite rose. [2] Red Thread, East Window. Found knotted around an immigration …

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