Cassandra, California
And even a sunset feels doomed, all chewed up
blue and red like witchfire, like Roman candles
in July. A single callous spark could send
the entire county up in flame. Seven miles
from the base, she can still hear the shells
fall. On her back, she’ll watch the planes
scudding across the upturned bowl of sky,
crush them between her fingers like flies.
Kayti Lahsaiezadeh
HOMESCHOOLING MOTHER OF 5, ALL THINGS DOMESTIC, MY CRAZY LIFE
poems, and the poet who poems them
Daily Discussions of craft and the writing life
It's always about writing...
Co-author of Mapping the Valley
Freelance Creative Professional
Writer * Editor * Educator * Weirdo
Lifesaving Poems
Just another WordPress.com site
(poetry and other stuff, but mostly poetry)
Just another WordPress.com site
a roominghouse for the servants of the duende
pea river journal 
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