to the sound of the advent of cold water when scheming is colouring landscape grey on grey improbably clouding the random body of — along the way in the sense of minerals or…
Browsing Category Poetry
The People Can Have a Little Trauma Bond, as a Treat
I’m people. One day, I’ll be a meme or put a QR code to my Cashapp on communion wafers. You scan, pay, then let it dissolve— through you, with you, in you, etc. Cut your…
Melancholy
Please be advised that this poem includes descriptions of self-harm. —The Editors —A golden shovel poem on a line by Kaveh Akbar Oncemy mother played the violin until Ibegged her to stop. Melancholy cutlike catgut…
Darkling with Lightning
I wanted to become a burning myth in my hot youth,pined for truth, but owned the largest voice to speak the smallest lies;from the centerof the wheel I ran nowhere fast, said littleof substance to…
