Privacy Policy

By Diana Cao

When you sign up for this slipstream, you give us certain information voluntarily.
This includes your true name, legal name, username, the name you will give your
first plant, your coordinates the first time you describe a meme in real life, the
timestamp from the picture of your friend of a friend’s 48th-percentile baby, the
chat transcript with the undangerous stranger you told everything to at 13
(undangerous, it turns out, to you), the number of an emergency contact you
broke up with five years ago; every time you've identified a crosswalk, jumble of
letters, or nuclear power plant to verify your humanity; the results of 17 IQ tests
you hope are wrong, the results of the Rorschach indicating your emotional
stability is elite among those who have chosen to interpret inkblots online, your
favorite Taco Bell menu item—discontinued but mentioned once on the annals
of the plant forum where you post photos of your BOP (Strelitzia reginae) and
await the glowing replies that will lead, in 42 clicks, off the edge of a flat earth.
black out of previous reads: you/you/you/you/you/you/you/you/you/await the glowing/earth.

Diana Cao‘s (she/they) poetry and fiction have appeared or are forthcoming in Ploughshares, The Threepenny Review, The Georgia Review, and elsewhere. She has received support from MacDowell and the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and her debut collection, Slipstream, won the 2024 Berkshire Prize at Tupelo Press, selected by Matthew Rohrer.