Not night or day,
A sun, drycaked against warm lithe tar
tasting my brine throat
fossil crushed bottles on my palms
if the water had never tasted rock
and if stony lungs
flux an old well
with sea glass so small
you may never cough
without a sharp twinkling dust
stinging of brine,
tasting of iron.
Hello! May we thank you for reading our very first post? Well, thank you.
This is the practically embryonic brainchild of Allison, Arielle, and Jade. We hail from the United States but currently find ourselves in Tel Aviv (Allison) and Florence (Arielle, Jade.) We are three university students with a strong affinity for words and the many ways they can bond. Of course, I’m talking about poetry. My name is Arielle, and I tend to think of poetry as a sort of linguistic chemistry, except without observable molecules and valence electrons, or any real scientific rules at all. Did that analogy work for you? If not, apologies, but I expect we’ll be pretty subjective on this blog.
Our intent with this project is to maintain a collaborative (cyber)space for poetry that is independent of reality. Despite time, location, and reason, we intend to present our original poetry on a somewhat regular schedule. This project is still very young, so we are open to ideas. We may be accepting submissions. We may occasionally recommend poetry that we find intriguing. We may even let some wild prose sneak in. We may go mad. Either way, feel free to watch through an electronic window from the comfort of your bed. Or desk. Or floor.
We hope to see you soon. Any questions or comments may be left here or emailed to email@example.com .
It’s been a pleasure.