Read the current magazine, and share your thoughts! #FeministToilet
Call for Poetry & Contest:
The Feminist Toilet Volume 2: Porcelain Pilgrimage
Submit your potty poetry, your prayers to the porcelain god, and any constipated haiku you may have to firstname.lastname@example.org by January 22, 2020!
Literary Pixie is partnering with RENT Poet to create this issue as a pilgrimage, a rogue posting of poems in truck stop bathrooms up the California coast. Selected poems will be featured covertly printed in bathroom stalls, in our online journal, and in our multimedia documentary of the journey.
3 poems will be selected to win the Plumber Prize of $18 apiece, the average hourly rate a plumber makes in America. We will also celebrate post-pilgrimage with a launch party in Los Angeles that will benefit the charities Toilet Twinning & WaterAid (TL;DR – you know food insecurity? toilet insecurity.)
DEADLINE: January 22, 2020
WHO: All poets who shit are encouraged to apply.
PAID: Top 3 poets chosen by arbitrary & subjective metrics win the monumental $18 Plumber Prize, like if they helped with your plumbing.
HOW: E-mail your submission to email@example.com
with a 1 paragraph bio (if you’re a new writer, don’t fret, just tell us about your bowel movements!)
“I’m like a ripe stool and the world is like a gigantic anus.”
“Love has pitched his mansion in/The place of excrement”
“The anus produces life, waste is fecund, from death new landscapes emerge.”
“How vulnerable can you be half naked on the toilet with your pants around your ankles and just a little bit of shit hanging from your asshole. Pretty fucking vulnerable, I will tell you that.”
Toilet. TOILET. TOOOOILLLET. The one thing that keeps us animals, the one thing that keeps us human. The place that’s private in public, the place it’s okay to be alone, the place that keeps us safe from our own excretions. On the toilet, we are totally and utterly vulnerable. And yet, like the bathroom we build walls, we sanitize, we do not talk about it, we do not art about it, we do not poet about it. But it makes us human, it connects us all – rich, poor, black, white, hispanic, asian, American, French, Chinese, Iraqi, Iranian! – we all use the bathroom. Even the Queen of England uses the bathroom. It is totally and utterly feminist. And when we feel sick, we rest our head on its cool rim and pray.
Send us your poems inspired by the toilet: firstname.lastname@example.org.