Member since October 19, 2011 | 1,196 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
The rain came and I wasn’t ready sweaters Shoved in a crinkled blue bag in back of the / Closet. I had to dig them out and pants too. / Not…
The Worst Winter Since 1989
For the past three days, // white wind and heavy drifts / have closed the road. / Besieged by ten below, / but there’s enough to eat / and…
If the trees were falling over; / limbs dropping in the drought years;trunks derailed from the biome;beetles having their way with a multitude of…
If only you could choose / to feel deeply. Since you cannot, / I will feel deeply for us both. / I will bury our hundred summers / in a hole…
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I thought his name was Flotsam !
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