Poetry. LGBTQIA Studies. The most prominent gay trans poet in America's debut collection is now available for wide distribution. For Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, simply surviving in a world that hates women is a feat, and loving and being loved an act of defiance. This painful & personal book, brimming with darkness and hope, artfully balances how difficult being alive can be�the feeling of everything, all at once, crumbling�but also why we all keep doing it. Equal parts radical, raw, and soft, in this second edition of I'M ALIVE. IT HURTS. I LOVE IT. (now with brand new poems) it is softness that saves us.

poems by joshua jennifer espinoza

I'm alive / it hurts / i love it is Joshua Jennifer Espinoza's first full-length poetry book in print. Her writing engages with subjects such as coming out as a trans woman, "surviving and thriving w/mental illness, and attempting to reconcile [her] anger/sadness at the state of things w/ [her] love for all the beauty that exists."

How long can I keep tricking you into thinking what I'm doing is poetry and not me begging you to let us live?

Being alive in Los Angeles means driving It means having friends in a hundred neighborhoods. Everyday I figure 8 my way through the blood & bones of the city. These journeys invigorate me. Connecting the dots is what I like to do, from the hilltop parties to the Watts Towers, North Long Beach to Frogtown, there's o much flavor-landscape & characters. I love it all. I Am ALIVE IN LOS ANGELES! In this progressive collection of poems. Essays & notes, Mike the PoeT digs into the real Los Angeles. Passages of charged prose & poetic snapshots capture the panorama of the city of angels. Pieces cover the mythical afterhour parties, unique architecture, socioeconomics, graffiti, gangs Hollywood & more. Poet Journalist Historian, Mike Sonksen aka Mike the PoeT has performed at the L.A. Times Book Prizes, Divine Forces Radio, Music Plus TV & published hundreds of poems & articles in the LA. Citybeat, O,C. Weekly, Jointz, Kotori & so on. "It's easy to target Los Angeles' deficits: flashiness, venality, gross disparity of wealth. But is takes rare understanding and eloquence to see this fair city in all its lights, both good and bad. Mike Sonksen, aka Mike the Poet, achieves that unusual feat with his debut spoken-word release, "I Am Alive in Los Angeles!" A third-generation L.A. native Sonksen has special insight into the multi-textured realities that comprise the city."-L.A. Alternative Press "Mike the Poet the most cool, positive guy in poetry, future LA legend you read it here first." -TEKA LARK LO

My name is Amber Reynolds. There are three things you should know about me: 1. I’m in a coma. 2. My husband doesn’t love me anymore. 3. Sometimes I lie. Amber wakes up in a hospital. She can’t move. She can’t speak. She can’t open her eyes. She can hear everyone around her, but they have no idea. Amber doesn’t remember what happened, but she has a suspicion her husband had something to do with it. Alternating between her paralyzed present, the week before her accident, and a series of childhood diaries from twenty years ago, this brilliant psychological thriller asks: Is something really a lie if you believe it's the truth?

An astonishing collection about interconnectedness—between the human and nonhuman, ancestors and ourselves—from National Book Critics Circle Award winner and National Book Award finalist Ada Limón. “I have always been too sensitive, a weeper / from a long line of weepers,” writes Limón. “I am the hurting kind.” What does it mean to be the hurting kind? To be sensitive not only to the world’s pain and joys, but to the meanings that bend in the scrim between the natural world and the human world? To divine the relationships between us all? To perceive ourselves in other beings—and to know that those beings are resolutely their own, that they “do not / care to be seen as symbols”? With Limón’s remarkable ability to trace thought, The Hurting Kind explores those questions—incorporating others’ stories and ways of knowing, making surprising turns, and always reaching a place of startling insight. These poems slip through the seasons, teeming with horses and kingfishers and the gleaming eyes of fish. And they honor parents, stepparents, and grandparents: the sacrifices made, the separate lives lived, the tendernesses extended to a hurting child; the abundance, in retrospect, of having two families. Along the way, we glimpse loss. There are flashes of the pandemic, ghosts whose presence manifests in unexpected memories and the mysterious behavior of pets left behind. But The Hurting Kind is filled, above all, with connection and the delight of being in the world. “Slippery and waddle thieving my tomatoes still / green in the morning’s shade,” writes Limón of a groundhog in her garden, “she is doing what she can to survive.”