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
Book Recommendations and Reviews
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(Somewhat) Daily News from the World of Literary Nonfiction
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Author of Angels & Adultery
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Writer * Reader * Editor
The website of fiction writer Anthony Martin
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Corey Mesler
polyaesthetically being in the world...
Just another WordPress.com site
(The poetry blog of Grant Clauser)
Just another WordPress.com site
a roominghouse for the servants of the duende.
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