SCRAPS
I’m 19 and it’s mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Or maybe it’s 8pm. I have to be the storyteller now. Make
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 5
Poetry
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 4
drive me mad formless one
It’s been three months since you left,and I’m lying on my back in thegrass, picturing your crag-toothed slot-canyon grin, mybody
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 4
sedation
Gesticulating ginger roots to knuckle-bones in rivers scrapedof solitude sallow and sinkingfeeling sends moonshine minglingflexing her fingers in jugscharcoal chisels
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 4
i do not know banyan trees
instead florida palms and pines,home sits in grid-rows of asphalt shingles and gleaming canals,no grand mountains, no ancient valleys.home is
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 4
The ecstasy of germs
These smithereens I – our little segmentations, clearly visible, emerges as human bodies, as the mood to fill your apartment
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 3
A study in anatomy
Ambition walked the underworld hand-in-hand with obsession, and he was the brightest in his class. It was that bleak October
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 3
People there live better than we do
It’s not my hand raising your direction to some point I can’t quite describe. Just the threads. These methods, she
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 3
The Harmonica, Chopped and Screwed
Broken water always meant more babies, right?It’s stalling and we’re nowhere near…Jesus Christ, there’s no time for this on the
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 2
Finding a place in the Palestinian diaspora
Honouring our past and ensuring our future The recent onslaught of genocide in Gaza stemming from the events of October
Poetry, Volume 67, Volume 67 Issue 2
Regret reigns in revolution
What do you do when the world is in flames?Do you sit there and cry or do you run for