Posts
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Meese is the Plural of Moose
Her eyes were not fixed on god but rather on the large taxidermied moose head fixed above the choir on the wall across from where she sat. It may as well have been him.
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Philosophies In Third Person
She began to realize that thinking thoughts in your head was fairly different than writing them down.
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Laundry etc.
Breakable things on the floor
and eating quinoa with a plastic spoon.
Laundromats hum with cicadas
and I haven't washed my sheets in two months.
I love the smell of rainy mornings,
but our room smells like stale shredded wheat -
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untitled
may he never see this
when he walks
mystery shrouds him.
what is he feeling?
we all wonder,
perplexed.
is he floating with his lover, the ethereal cloud
many miles above us, while we simply watch a mirage -
Avocado Tree pt. 1
When I was little
I had an avocado tree
It grew and grew
Until it reached just below my knee
And I loved it, and it grew some more
And the sun shone and the rain poured
But it was potted in mere sand
That crumbled into dust
Loves
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Sun descending in a sienna sky
The basketball court is slick with freshly-fallen rain, black nail polish hardened into enamel after spilling weeks ago lies on my desk, forgotten and right in front of my eyes, as I watch them play that game on my tiny screen, their feet sliding
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Realities
She pressed the cherry into my hand,
Smiling, it didn’t mush,
Didn’t leak red juice all over my summer-calloused palm
Like fake blood, too bright to be the real thing.
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missed deadline
It was my fault completely
I’ll say that much
But to my defense it was July
And I don’t do much thinking in July
I don’t meet many deadlines in July
They told me that my school email would die in July
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Loon Song
Author's note: I recently found out that a school that I loved sold their camp in the Adirondacks, where I have many fond memories. This grief inspired some writing, which I have posted below.
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The Words my Mother Gave Me
I wrote a poem today, but I don't think anyone will ever see it
I wrote it using nothing
