my hometown is a parking lot
(10/21/24 10:31pm)
we plant seeds in the cracks of the asphalt
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we plant seeds in the cracks of the asphalt
i find her between the pine needles
I'd say someone stole the bases, but "stole" gives them too much presence. No, they were Lot's-wifed, atomic-flashed, poofed. No holes in the infield, no white indents. I trotted through the vacant dirt without looking down.
if my mother never left India,
Maggie’s grandmother used to quilt. Patch after patch, she would stitch together colorful squares and harsh floral and paisley patterns until they formed silhouettes of Jesus and Mary or a massive cross. She mainly made these Christian-patterned quilts for family and people at her church. Every birthday party, Christmas dinner or Easter service was marked by Maggie’s grandmother bringing an armful of quilts for people to take home. It was always a big hit.
if i close my eyes maybe
Dedicated to David Selves, aged 12, who died off Woolich supporting his drowning playfellow and sank with him clasped in his arms on September 12th, 1896.
the wind, brash against my ears, is filled with
a casual affair,
The author has been murdered.
01/02/2023
The day you take your first steps,
the heart bears me
The voices of the night blend together to form a chaotic symphony. Cars rumble through the streets, a rhythmic beating that ebbs and flows through the city. People talking, laughing, crying. Their voices intermingled to form a loving harmony resounding with the human spirit. Nature adds its voice to the melody, the chirping birds and scurrying squirrels filling the empty spaces in the measure. And atop the beautiful orchestra sit flashing lights and neon signs, their glow illuminating the world under the watchful eye of the moon above.
a doorframe is equal parts
In April
My great aunt Sarah lives in a turquoise house by the road because she is a practical person— turquoise to scare off the evil things, away from the woods to avoid where they lurk. I live there too, for now. All the bedrooms sit at the front of the house, the windows facing the street. After nightfall, we don’t venture to the back half of the house, where the windows instead look out into the woods and the hills.
Falling into our Future
there is only so much a person can do