A 28-page zine of poems inspired by Mitski. Including centos, collages, and confessional writing, Summer Farah celebrates her transition into her mid-20s with some sadgirl shit. I hope you'll celebrate with me. A free digital version is available with a purchase of the physical zine. “The centos of Summer use the magic of Mitski – she has a desire to live despite being beckoned by the depths of the ocean. Shedding an old skin and re-entering the world at 25, even if in the form of a tall child. Using escapism to find herself. Summer’s poems create a narrative that despite it all, she is willing herself to live a life, any life, and we are so happy that she does.”–Madi Perez “In & I was so young when I behaved 25, Summer’s poems crave impossibility. We are given the privilege of accessing a vulnerable inner world which balances life and darkness, and in which poetic imagination takes the wheel and invites us to wander into and between alternate realities. These realities play with gender, time, mental health, and of course, place. Summer masterfully constructs different access points, portals to where “Somewhere there is a me exhaling in the winter ice & / Somewhere there is a me who presses olives fresh &.” From where we stand, we can see through the portals, image by image, but never truly cross over. The poems also can’t cross over: as a Palestinian, there is always a border that withholds a possible life. ‘If my parents never left Palestine / Neither would’ve I / & so I return / the only way I know how.’ The speaker’s return is not a return at all—the ‘I have’ is missing from the broken grammar of ‘neither would’ve I.’ The poem cannot assert a return, and the way in which the language points at its own insufficiency while still stretching to include many imagined possibilities is one of the things that makes this a breathtaking book of poems.”–Aiya Sakr