Author Archives: Anastacia-Renee Tolbert

About Anastacia-Renee Tolbert

Anastacia Renee' is a queer super-shero of color moonlighting as a writer, performance artist and creative writing workshop facilitator. She has received awards and fellowships from Cave Canem, Hedgebrook, VONA, Jack Straw, Ragdale and Artist Trust. She was recently selected as the 2015-16 Writer-in-Residence at Hugo House, a place for writers in Seattle. Her Chapbook 26, published by Dancing Girl Press, is an abbreviated alphabet expression of the lower and uppercase lives of women and girls. Her poetry, & fiction have been published in Literary Orphans, Bitterzoet, Radius Poetry, Seattle Review, Duende, Bone Bouquet, Dressing Room Poetry and many more. Recently Anastacia Renee' has been expanding her creative repertoire into the field of visual art, and has exhibited installations surrounding the body as a polarized place of both the private and political. Lately she’s been obsessed with the body's memory and infatuated by myths, fables & imaginary truths.

Four Dreams – Anastacia Renee

"Anderwelt";Lotta Van Droom

“Anderwelt”-Lotta van Droom

Dream (5)

you run with only half your wings grown in & like most hairs growing back
the surface of your skin is itchy & you know that to scratch it is not really
scratching it but merely making the feeling delayed & more itchy you find 
running faster can sometimes make the itch feel less like wool & more like 
poison oak 	you keep asking yourself which one is better	 which one is tolerable
which one can you hide & you realize as you are running your feet have become
disconnected from your legs & your legs have become disconnected from your 
hips & your hips have begun waving goodbye to your pelvis & there you are just 
all top &  no bottom 	itching in the middle of a street which looks like a mash up
between honey & lava just when you think the jig is up, this is the last straw, 
that's all she wrote, your womb sings some song about ________________
& you feel the parts of yourself rejoining only your feet have chosen to your
heart, your heart has chosen to be your womb & your womb has chosen  to be 
your hair, all the tubes wrapped tightly in a round bun, all the eggs nesting behind 
your ear
 Continue reading