Featured Image: Wall Street Journal Hurt you – lying? think not. sure, I mean, what? – not batter lids. silent! – fair, battered lids: drip true does not mean, what? sure, true – for me, never you.
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All articles filed in POETRY & PROSE
Mermaid
“Mermaid” is my frustration with the poetry community. As a poet, I should not have to write about all the ways I’m repressed and mistreated to satiate a vicarious readership.
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Imperialism
On the fiery fields of Anatolia, She hears the shrill yell of her countrymen. Lead from another land with the ochre and sand.
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Hairbrushed
Featured Artwork: Louisa Cannell When I was younger, my mother used to brush my hair in the early morning sunlight I can remember standing on the chilled, tiled floor of our impossibly small bathroom and being entranced by the specks of dust playing and dancing in the beams of a new day Hard, stiff bristles…
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Tender L{H}umens
Featured Image: Kevin Lamarque for Reuters Their beds, the center of our universe, seeded only a few years back. In their lumens, a silent thunder of embodied bickering — a rare storm for such tender tributaries. Inflamed tempers. Regretful tendernesses. The fairytale ending of nightmares naked-faced protestors blindly write. inspiration: “15 Children Are Hospitalized With…
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Pan[dem]ic
Featured Image: Lindsey Wasson for Reuters You are a mental patient with a Master’s degree and an absentee ballot Driving at 80 miles an hour the wrong way home to escape the killer in the air You chew, swallow and wash down what you still don’t know you need Seeing angels drift down to take…
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Find Me
Featured Artwork: KwangHo Shin Find me in those torn up pages filled with empty words sitting at the bottom of my drawer. Find me in those empty boxes of paint and the overused bristles of a thick brush. Find me in the sweets that stay snuggled within your already heavy pockets, ever ready to land…
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viral
I have cried three times this week.
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SomeBody
Featured Artwork: Arina Tsumbaluk When you say “body”, I wish our minds didn’t drift right down To what our consciousness does When the lights go out A heart, A soul, A place we can call home. A casket holding And never letting go A product of parents, Nurtured with unconditional love, And their sacrifices of…
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