Member since October 19, 2011 | 2,226 Readings |
Shawna is a copywriter based in Portland, Oregon.
Our velocity is volatile. / I console you over the car console / with my mouth, but this / is no way to have a conversation. / You take…
Depart & Return: A Family Ritual
Sundays are mandated grievings. // Bodies of men suspended / between here and somewhere. / Women who sob through sharp tongues / and…
It surprises you like pulled weeds, the mailbox, level, and garbage taken out to the curb. It will not be deterred—even when your steps call for…
If I’m White
I am a dream-puffed cloud / / hogging the view / from above / an eggshell cracked too easily / a cony / soft and plump. …
For a second / / or two / there is nothing / but space / / / between us. / / When you are sunlight I / …
La Colección De La Abuela
Should you peek behind old, brown walls, you will see chickens and chairs, chickens and chairs. A reason to sit and a place to perch. To have too…
Subscribed by Shawna Harch
In Fields of Bloom and Decay
when you unlock your sun cage // the cattle rhyme with my bones / / when husk and seed fall on my blanket / the field begins to fear its…
music ends next week // radios will look dumb / jukeboxes impossible to explain // colored vinyl pretty but mysterious / tell your kids that justin…
Bukowski started it, got drunk and picked a fight with John Muir. He didn’t want to fight for any ideological reason—it was just somehow what he…
Lost should feel / Familiar by now / That lousy constant / Churning // The thing that tsks / In the corner // Comes for the ride / Everywhere…
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