How Afraid To Be A Woman Were You? by Kristin Garth From two villages in Trier where hundreds dis- appeared …
Literary Determinism
Sometimes, they say in the book reviews, you come across a book At exactly the right time in your life. …
Dead Spiders
I wish my anxieties were dead spiders in gas station restrooms. The distant thrum of tires on tarmac they can …
My Walk Home
I’m breaking free from the asylum of your hate Man and God, are naught but fools Tools to my hand …
Sunrise War
The sun is rising above my head, lighting my perception of what I should believe of the lasts unexpected thoughts running …
Chaos Falls Upon Us
At the edge of every view line I see fire Chaos reigns free The black smoke that lingers Flows through …
Chronicles of an 80’s Childhood: In Segments
CHRONICLES OF AN 80’S CHILDHOOD IN SEGMENTS OF MAGIC & MISERY IN THOUGHTS & RECOLLECTIONS 1)The paint chipping in the …
He is Beautiful Like a Rainbow
he is beautiful like a rainbow this was never a story of pride parade floats this was a rebellion created …
Roe v. Wade-related | Grandma had a baby at seventeen, by Nadia
Roe vs Wade-related; reproductive freedom Grandma had a baby at seventeen Drugged and strapped to a bed At a school …
Speak as the Tree | Our Hovering Fruitchild
Dedicated to the sturdy elm that stood as a constant in the backyard of my childhood home. When it died, my dad turned it into a fort; a safe home for me. This poem was written after my dad died. I guess I turned my dad into a poem; a safe home for him.
