![]() She is also a contributing editor for the London Review of Books where she wrote about her recent experience with long-term Covid, which she caught when travelling to Harvard last year to give a lecture. As well as two poetry collections ( Balloon Pop Outlaw Black and Motherland Fatherland Homelandsexuals), she has published a bestselling memoir, 2017’s Priestdaddy, about when she and her husband were forced to move back in with her mother and her raucously eccentric father, who became a Catholic priest after watching The Exorcist 72 times. “It was like every hour became somehow cubic and we were chained up in it like a murder basement,” she writes back, combining the punchy hyperbole of Twitter (“murder basement”) with the lyrical originality (“every hour became somehow cubic”) that has made her a literary star. ![]() Everyone I know who had Covid says that at some point in the night they felt like, 'OK, body, you had a good run, we’re over now' ‘Wow,’ I yell in ecstasy, ‘This makes no sense at all.’” And asking the Paris Review: “So is Paris any good or not” (no punctuation, of course.) So I feel no shame in admitting my social media addiction to her. ![]() ![]() Lockwood is often described as “the poet laureate of Twitter” and the 38-year-old originally made a name for herself with her joyfully weird tweets, such as her parodies of sexts (“ I am a Dan Brown novel and you do me in my plot-hole. I tell her that I’ve spent 127 hours on Twitter. ![]()
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