Gale Marie Thompson the author of Soldier On (Tupelo Press, 2015) and two chapbooks. Recent work may be found in Gulf Coast, Guernica, jubilat, Cosmonauts Avenue, Colorado Review, and Foundry, among others. She has received fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Kimmel Harding Nelson Center for the Arts. She is the founding editor of Jellyfish Magazine and lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she teaches at Grand Valley State University.

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WHAT MUSEUM WOULD YOU BE HAPPY TO LIVE AT FOREVER

The Different Bears Wearing Stevie Nicks Shawls museum. I do not mean bears dressed up as different celebrities. I mean different types of bears—varied in kind or species or role or their placement on the spectrum of pleasure—dressed up as one celebrity. This is not a real place. Maybe it is a place I will wait for the rest of my life.

ENJOY LEAPING? HOPPING? GALLOPING?

Always to all, but more than anything I enjoy a good LUNGE. What’s more, I enjoy a good lunge in public. Preferably in movie theaters, right after gummy bears and a strange movie.

ONE CAN PLAN A WHOLE LIFE AROUND TOAST?

One can and I do.

IS RAKING LEAVES REALLY THAT GREAT?

When I was a hyper kid my grandparents would tell me to go outside and rake all the pinestraw out in the front yard into plans for a house. Raking leaves sounds awful tbh.

DESCRIPTIONS OF EXCELLENT NAPS

Look—you and I both know that there are good naps and there are bad naps. I have a pupper who is an excellent nap companion, happy to be little spoon. I have a cat who is happy to be big spoon. The fish are happy in their tank. It works. But there are bad naps, and I can still feel them. Recently I was so exhausted, even in the midst of napping, I was so removed from what was supposed to be my life that when my mom called my name to come out of said nap I lost my ability to communicate to her. I spent what felt like full minutes wondering to myself how I was going to have to create a new language to talk to her, since the old one wasn’t working anymore. She called, and I tried to wake up, tried to find that old chestnut, language, but instead woke up even more removed than I was. Just to be clear—I made it out! I can communicate again. See? I’m typing my feelings quite well. I was just pretty tired.

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