THREE POEMS by MEGAN LUBEY

THIS IS A PERSONAL LIST, OF WHICH I WILL NOT BE ELABORATING ON BECAUSE THAT’S PRIVATE INFORMATION, THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING.

● Postcard from Chicago, blue writing in which you describe your hands.

● Laughing in the kitchen, all our mouths at once. 

● The date could be good. 

● The date could be terrible. And that can be cool too, so we can joke about it.

● Possibilities, of course. Life is unimaginable, whatever. 

● The part of the long drive where you suddenly need more of it. 

● A really awesome sandwich. B) 

● My brain, which thinks in Tom and Jerry pranks. 

● A boat crash compilation video projected behind the rock band. 

● Marina’s voice, two states over. 

● I know there is something inside of me that will overflow against all odds.

● I’m still afraid I’ve already had all that was made for me. 

● The librarian scanning the teen lesbian romance novel. 

● This man, talking to me about motherhood. 

● Me, wondering what the hell he’s talking about. 

● Roman Catholic Church paraphernalia in my childhood bedroom. 

● BTW, Jesus still loves me. 

● When we laugh at the same time, our heartbeats sync (this is a fact). 

● This is one moment where I know my body works.


I’m Saying Convince Me!

Overflowing with these past things that no longer sound. 

Pages of old writing, a line of dialogue, those I drank 

myself into the dirt with. 

God is loud, but that’s it. 

I’m changing my mind & changing my mind & changing my mind &

it’s just like getting kicked in the teeth. It’s like getting all hot, 

smushing raspberries into your cheeks, the grass shooting back 

into the ground beneath your feet. Dirt just for you! All for you! 

Put your hands in it, fall forward, 

try getting the taste out your mouth. 

That thing you should be embarrassed about is kissing you on the lips!

& she’s good at it! 

She’s timeless & at the party. 

She’s in the corner writing a poem. It’s louder on the porch, 

the air. Its eyes are bigger than its stomach. You don’t want to know

what I’m doing out here, no you don’t want to know. I’m saying 

convince me! & I love your long brown hair! 

If I never do anything again I could never feel this & never feel this & never feel this &一

oh my god, I love your long brown hair, 

I love it. I’ll hold a candle to my face for the rest of my life, 

I’ll get my boating license, weave you a sail and a koozie for your hands.

If the crickets stay talkin’ I’ll by us the entire fucking boat.


SINNING IN ALL CAPS

THE DAY IS 9 HOURS AND 25 MINUTES AND I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING

TO SHOW FOR IT. 

I WANT MY APARTMENT TO BE MESSIER. 

I WANT TO GIVE MY LIFE TO MASKING TAPE. 

I WANT TO PAINT 

WITH SO MUCH ABANDON THAT I LOSE MY DEPOSIT. 

I WANT TO MOVE TO VERMONT WITHOUT ANYONE GOING AWAY.

I WANT EVERYONE TO GO AWAY AND I WANT TIME TO WEEP ABOUT IT.

I WANT AN ADULT TO TELL ME THEY’RE SORRY. 

I MISS YOU AND I WISH WE COULD GO GET INDIAN FOOD. 

DON’T FORGET THAT. 

WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THAT DRESS IN THIS WEATHER. WHAT ARE YOU

DOING IN THAT DRESS IN THIS WEATHER. 

CAN I BE SOMETHING IMPORTANT WITH A BEER IN MY HAND?

I COULD HAVE BEEN SOMETHING SO GOOD. 

IT’S COOL THAT YOU LOOK LIKE THAT. IT’S COOL 

THAT YOU’RE WEARING THAT DRESS IN THIS WEATHER AND THAT

THE DRESS HAS POCKETS CAN YOU HOLD MY KEYS 

FOR ME MAYBE WHEN YOU GIVE THEM BACK TO ME CAN THAT THING I LOST

YEARS AGO BE LIVING ON THE KEYRING CAN YOU GIVE IT BACK TO ME SO NONCHALANT CAN I LOVE YOU CAN I LOVE YOU CAN I

LOVE YOU CAN I LOVE YOU CAN I


Meg Lubey (they/she) is a visual artist and writer currently working in Northeast Ohio. They are the author of a chapbook titled “About Cutting Limes and the Moon Being in Half” and their favorite color is yellow. You can find more from them at meganlubeyart.com. Twitter / Instagram.

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TWO POEMS by ENZO SALAZAR

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A THING by BRITTANY ACKERMAN