All I write are emails: (Not) A Lament.

All I write are emails. I should join my generation in a mass bemoaning. A wailing of would-be scribes. Denied our space to craft lyrical whimsy by neoliberal templates. But I won’t. Because I don’t really write emails. I write missives of reassurance. To a colleague, straining under anxiety who needs kindness. Compassion between theContinue reading “All I write are emails: (Not) A Lament.”