I pray for the eyes that have seen a noose hanging in their garage. I pray for the noses who have smelled the eye watering antiseptic of a hospital. I pray for the ears who have heard a bullet make contact with metal lockers. I pray for the hands who shake as […]
O’ for the swirling psychedelic A non-existent curtain call Sacrilege yet still angelic Clairvoyance mixed with alcohol O’ for the artist lost in trifle Flamboyance hiding deep despair Full of stories, always lurking Somehow something must be there O, to drunken mirth pulled f
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Untitled, Spring 2022,
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it is New Year’s Eve and I am pouring sweet and sour dreams down the drain, wrinkling my nose at the syrupy scent of vinegar hope that I forgot to check at the door when I first felt sophomore year crawling up my insides to stream down my eyes in fear. fear: deathbeds in holiday […]
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Disco Glitch, Spring 2
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Feeling Blue, Spring 2
His tired old eyes comb the far bank searching up, down, for something new. But only familiar sites catch his gaze on the riverside. Root, branch, bubble. Posed on a mossy pad, companied by the nuthatch and warbler, perched. Toes up, ankles crossed, arms intertwined silent on his best behavior.
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Abigail, Spring 2022,
i didn’t know living without a closet would feel so… unearthed. as if someone scraped the layers of me back with a vegetable peeler, and now me and my clothes and my belongings are a nude carrot. my jeans are stacked in crates, blue crayons bleeding from the corner of my roo