
and I took it a step further and uploaded this absolutely accursed design to our ancient Redbubble shop because fuck it, why not. We live in a hellscape.
Get this design on any number of products. I dare you.
-Allēna

and I took it a step further and uploaded this absolutely accursed design to our ancient Redbubble shop because fuck it, why not. We live in a hellscape.
Get this design on any number of products. I dare you.
-Allēna
With everything going on with the ER and all, I fell deeply asleep for a couple of hours after frantically making preparations for an upcoming event where I’m selling zines with Emerson, and now I’m grabbing burgers with the aforementioned adorable man. I’ll probably post my performance from Linneman’s tonight later.
Until then,
-Allēna
The poor providers were in the weeds and it turns out I have a UTI of some kind, so I got antibiotics and some sleep. I also shitposted all night because poor sweet Emerson was more tired than I was and therefore I had to keep watch.
So have this bullshit I posted to announce to the world that I was in the ER:
This whole “unexamined fingers” BS revives a post I made back in the elder days of 2017 when I was in Mormon college and equally insleepriated riffing off of the quote “the unexamined life is not worth living”.
I like to think I’m funny 🤣
Goodnight, sweet world. I’m probably gonna crash (again).
-Allēna
my mother, a self professed pyromaniac, my late father, and I, all loved the band u2. her favorite song (and album) of theirs was, not so coincidentally, in my opinion, called “the unforgettable fire”. was she telling on herself? probably.
our poem “the fire watcher’s bomb” talks about the two generations of pyromaniacs on our mother’s side that came before us, our own struggles with compulsions, and our mother’s projections. this digital mixed media piece contains lines from “the fire watcher’s bomb”.
“the fire watcher’s bomb” appears in our upcoming zine, fear not the brave pain, which drops on october 11. ✨
it’s gonna be fire 🔥
-Allēna

I was born in an otherwise normal middle of june at the tail end of tornado alley. I’m a gemini, scorpio moon, half air, half water, all storm and
tremendous force. say what you want about astrology, scorpios, or geminis, I’ll tell you what I know. I learned as a young child why they name storms after people.
perhaps some seal or some levee broke in an unseen place upon my birth, because death would dog my every step
and I swear on my father’s grave that hell
followed after that.
nine months after I was born, I got sick twice,
one week apart. the first virus took out my
immune system, the second took out my heart.
but I was a fighter. they hooked me up to a
machine that would breathe for me. one dose
of the meds they gave me would knock
my full grown, linebacker sized father out for
ten hours because I refused to go quietly,
like a category five hurricane slamming into
a coastline during the worst season on record.
I ripped through death and pain so goddamned
hard that death had a near me experience.
then came a sepsis scare. then a stroke. then
near starvation. each time I wailed a hurricane,
hundred fifty seven mile an hour straight line winds.
death learned to hate to see me coming.
all before I was three.
I learned to watch the storms that mirrored my
soul, learned to love the wind and the water,
find peace in the howling and the sickly blue green sky. in 2000, two tornadoes tore through
my city, devouring chunks of the skyline. there
are still signs and monuments there if you know
where to look.
nobody thought I’d live to see eighteen, twenty one, twenty three. they bet against me, calling me
crazy, plotting against me, betraying me when I needed them most. I learned to become inevitable, to channel my force into words, into song, into low pressure systems of my own.
so their plans didn’t hold.
their levees didn’t hold. they cracked under their
own weight and were washed away in the storm
surge when the people didn’t evacuate in time.
when I was twenty five, a boyfriend called me
what I was, a barely contained hurricane.
I lived with a lover when I first moved to
milwaukee who worked on emergency alert
machines. I learned the names of my surroundings when storms
rolled in with the same passion in which I
learned about her, the same way I studied the
storms when I was younger.
and I wonder if someday
someone will name a hurricane after me.
-Allēna 9/22/2025
I slammed “sin eater”.
“sin eater” was originally published in my zine when the lighting strikes me back.
-Allēna
Here are some pictures from the party so far.























His work has a whole lot of range. I see why he’s won many awards. I’ve already laughed hysterically several times. I also learned a new word: haruspicate. I’m loving it.
-Allēna
Today on Bad Copy:
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/16vi19422n/
I couldn’t watch this without wheezing. This is BREAD DOUGH, people. BREAD DOUGH!!!
Take this as proof that you should always run your videos, copy, what have you past people with the mind of a 12 year old boy.
-Allēna
Fuck it. Might as well go all in.
Here are a few poems I wrote for an antifascist literature jam.




The full zine is here if you want to read it. I’m gonna speak freely while there’s still some semblance of a First Amendment left.
-Allēna

We are the canaries in the coalmine. Not some rich guy getting fired. Rather, how society and the government treats the disabled, the indigenous, people of color, immigrants, the unhoused, trans people, anyone who is marginalized… That should be your indicator for how bad things are getting. We’ve been sounding the alarm for awhile now, but society as a whole only listens now that it’s some rich mfs getting shit canned.
-Allēna