HeyJaredConspystery
A Tennesseean lost in Chicagoland talks about poetry, philosophy, spiders, and whatever else is on her mind. Personal essays, all free. Best wishes.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 12
- Latest publication
- Sep 25, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 10, 2026
Latest issues
Lagoons III (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedUp through still water, this black hook of shock: a cormorant surfaces whole treetops in its eyes Tall trees, fronds in the heat, sticky shoes and the sense of prologue and turtles lulling leathered waves all their salt and grace enclosed for now The boardwalk leads through palms to beach, to sea where one day the leatherbacks
Advice from the Gray (opens the original)
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“We used to dream of these days,” says Stella in the group chat: this week, the high is low seventies across the lakefront, a much-needed departure from the sticky heatwaves of summer thus far. We talk about plans for the season. We delight at the prospect of long sleeved shirts. But of course, there’s a catch. I go out to relish the cooler air and half an hour into my walk, I am met with a downpour. Huddling under a pavilion at the park, I finally think to check the hydrologic forecast; the rai
A Little Further (opens the original)
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Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedsunscreen makeup something is in my eyes six and a half kilometers’ worth warblers and garbage one roadkill cat whose coat looks just like mine it collapses my arches and burns the backs of my eyes but outside the shade light through thrush wings an orchard ahead with unfamiliar calls old cat’s paws and smeared shadow stinging vision lift from the litter seven kilometers and there’s light in the garden again<div class="capt
Book Reviews III (opens the original)
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I write book reviews! This is the third installment of my Substack book review compilation series; it covers reviews from July and August 2026.Nothing to See Here, Kevin WilsonFinished July 1st, 2026; 5 stars“Maybe they could keep themselves alive. Maybe I could keep them happy.”“And I knew a secret to caring for someone, had learned it just this moment. You took care of people by not letting them know how badly you wanted your life to be different.”<e
Songs I Like: August 2026 (opens the original)
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The first time I see a proper fawn, I stop dead in my tracks. It’s like in the movies, this alien creature with twigs for legs and too-big ears and a general sense of terror in its demeanor. Its parent grazes unbothered beside it, probably used to the hikers that frequent this trail. The baby locks eyes with me with such great intensity that I think maybe it’s looking at my soul. And I can’t tell what judgment it’s passing about what it sees.I am so busy standing in awe of the fawn that I forget
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