prolixity

Four girls were lying like crime scene bodies in a pink bedroom. A small fan whirred on the desk. “It. Is. So. Hot.” A girl fanned herself with a copy ...

Donna Platt pushed herself out of her car. She paused to touch her fluff of white hair and rearrange a turquoise sweater around her plump figure. A screen door screeched ...

What’s up with postcards anyway? I mean, who likes getting postcards? They’re just pretty pictures of places where you’re not, and a few meaningless words scribbled on the back, usua

“Listen up, folks! Maybe you shouldn’t fret over those gas prices after all. A man in Wyoming has predicted the apocalypse!” The newscaster’s bared fluorescent teeth could scar

To go back to this place is to go back to a different me. Cutting through the layers of years like tree-rings to reveal something greener and softer. The place ...

sunburnt grass prickles under / her early-roughened feet / coated in the coughings / of the dusty potholed road

Lately the sun had taken to warming away snow and waking up flowers. People slowly began to notice this, as their icy brains thawed, and they shed their woolen coatings ...

Another poem I wrote for school.