In which I can't believe I published a poem.
Contrary to the alleged wisdom of Roget's Super Thesaurus 1995 edition (what deemed it "super" the tome never explained): "poetry" and "prose" are NOT synonyms. Thirteen-year-old me did not realize this. I trusted the almighty power of the printed word. Old notebooks now hold embarrassing hand-lettered titlepages. Of course, by "hand-lettered," I mean letters cut from … Continue reading When I was Thirteen a Thesaurus Lied to Me
the sound of the trains comes thinly hand in hand with rain shivering into droplets against the smudged glass of the window two handprints on the outside, small and light vowels seem redundant but esses less so in these days of much i have a tripleword score lined up ready to win but sometimes i … Continue reading turn autocorrect off
—So what’s your slant? (He’ll start and end with this question.) The bus winds slowly up a hill... slowly back down. —like sardines, he jabs. The cynicism rolls off his shoulders and lands with a sickening thud. I’ll appreciate it less every day. We—the hundred collective—cling to something like prison bars to keep afoot. — … Continue reading commuter school