poetry

I Spit a Nickle into the Earth - Creatives Contest Honorable Mention

In the quiet stretched before us, I spit a nickel into the Earth. It takes seconds too long to fall, and before it can strike the ground...

i drove home last night in my grandpa’s jeep the taste of you still lingering on the inside of my bottom lip and i thought of things left...

How will you receive me if I submit to the black glass concealing your undertow? Will your currents treat me fair and fragile, like the...

There’s a stretch of trees I walk through, and every time it’s dark, I see Ebion passing by above. Pushing an upturned walker (he calls...

My parents always whispered that thunder was God bowling, but I wasn’t raised religious. Now, I pray for things like whisky, and bruises...

Ask about the aching, and I will tell you about greenhouse glass, how our dreams tick at the cracks of panes. You said it would be this...

She is her own brown, the shade that boasts “I’m a hundred and twenty pounds of dark chocolate.” She dances for the high school team with...

It’s the type of writing most people in literature classes despise analyzing. Why? Because it’s confusing, and there’s all this old-timey...

I pack my ghosts in suitcases before climbing the train. The red one with the wheels, that’s where his hands have lived since the time...

For What it’s Worth You see, I think I kind of lost control of my coronaries when your coldly inconsolable wife called me long past your...