May 5, 2016
Bathing in India Before I was a citizen of this country, I was a citizen of the bucket. Staring at the water right under my nose. I don’t believe I can fit. Lifting me up, my mom tells me it is the only way, my feet dangling centimeters above the bubbly water. An orange bucket […]
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May 2, 2016
In My Own Underwater World Sometimes I feel like a fish in a tank in the jungle – out of place, silent while everyone is roaring, squawking respected in their hidden languages and I just sit there in my own underwater world I feel ignored, these animals drink my world while I breathe it as […]
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April 26, 2016
By Matt Gano, WITS Writer-in-Residence when the poems with long lines salted raw on page make you aware of your meat, mark them with an asterisk, for the sky she fills with ink Over the past year, fellow writer Aaron Counts and I have had the privilege of mentoring Seattle’s first Youth Poet Laureate (YPL), […]
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March 23, 2016
Burning When you tease me, I feel like I’m burning, and you lock the oven with words like, “I hate you.” As I burn, I try to put out the flames with tears, but you just laugh. Sometimes I put the flames out on others. I think the flames will go out, but they just […]
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February 16, 2016
Months Later Let me tell you about the day my tongue broke down. It melted into fine dust, iridescent particles of lies and rabbit-quick explanations I tried to get underneath where you used to be, but it was a tangled mess of boot buckles and bolts I sucked the lies from your marrow; they went […]
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