Tag: poetry

~Sappy Daze~ Day 27

Sappy Leave a comment 
Pretty Little Girl
                      - after Ocean Vuong

Look at her, isn’t she pretty?

Where she’s from, it’s normal to eat fish eyes.

Keep your eyes on her. 

Don’t get too close.

She will soon burst into flames and try to burn you down.

Is this a blurry memory of my dreams or did I dream of someone’s blurry memories?

Oh, I wish she would say something. 

Then I can check that she’s taking deep enough breaths.

That there’s still something left in her little body.

It’s almost like she’s tired of us talking about her.

Why are you crying? 

Oh, no. I’m not drunk, girl. 

I just don’t believe you’ve died. 

The sadness in me ends in her tonight.

- Sappy

Capturing Campus: Four Years

EKArts 4 Comments

Four Years

tears shed with bright panic

at the sight of a new home

alone in a mask

how can one make friends 

six feet apart

I applied for a job

writing poems to regret (not now, but later)

I learned that I hadn’t learned Spanish (or English)

I would start again

in a cold sweat at 1:00 am

as my roommate dry heaved liquid fun 

into a trashcan

I met a person

who asked to sleep with me

I didn’t.

I made art,

spent holidays at home, where things felt wrong

but never went on as long as I hoped

had my future read

embrace who you are, who you love, they said

I did neither at 19 

in Chicago, I was low below the river 

back at work, then to school

again, I met a roommate

Halloween was football and fishnets

nightlife and laughter in Grand Rapids 

I met more writers, more friends 

turned 20 

watched my favorite person graduate

in the fresh June heat

I felt happy for the first time in a long time

I applied for a job

wrote a book I’ll never publish

fed goats and peeled through corn stalks 

ran a club, felt grown

hit another low in the ER (I took my notes to study)

before turning 21 

drank and said goodbye

hit lower than the ground

I thought you couldn’t fall from the floor

stood up, took off to my last year

cried for different reasons

looked long and hard in the mirror 

wondering where the time went

whether it was worth it

I’d like to say it was, so I will

It was worth it.

All of this to say, I am enormously lucky to have lived and grown here. Although my undergraduate years were hard (harder than I anticipated), I have gained the confidence, companionship, and courage to keep reaching. I want to extend my thanks to the arts, ink. program director for providing me with the opportunity to express myself on this website. Thank you to everyone who has read my writing. Your support means more than you know. With that, I hope to see you around. Go Blue! 

aSoSS 55 | Chasm

a-spider-on-state-street Leave a comment

It was so emotional, all the seniors were crying…

Mujo Café, 8:30PM, 4/18/2025

–and i have convinced myself that this is not for you,

the way death will frighten lovers,

the way summer mourns in june–

Has it really been two years? The time has flown by and It’s time for us to part ways. Below are some extra tidbits that I did not get the chance to incorporate. Spend your summer days lounging, doing silly things and laughing at yourself, and opening up to the great big world–and before you know it, dear reader, you and I will be together once more.

Take care~

I’m being mean but I don’t care, that pisses me off!

Union + S. University, 2:30PM, 2/10/2025

…I’m gonna make a bunch of Snapchat accounts and friend you and get your account banned and I said no, I’ve already had two accounts banned! And then he called me chopped.

Mosher-Jordan Dining Hall, 5:00PM, 3/12/2025

You are both such great conversationalists, you both love pop culture!

You’ve heard me say this before, I have the home court advantage at the Duderstadt Center. Anywhere else…

Audio Studio, 1:00PM, 3/28/2025

I think you should submit this to a workshop, like the bar’s pretty low…

Power Center, 6:00PM, 4/9/2025

The central part of Ann Arbor is where all the restaurants and shops are… there’s a really nice natural history museum which would be a really cool field trip, you know, the dinosaur.

Medical Science Research Building, 11:00AM, 4/11/2025

And if you don’t know what you’re doing, you might as well chase the bag while you’re at it.

Cardiovascular Center, 5:00PM, 4/11/2025

Capturing Campus: A Dandelion Achievement 

EKArts Leave a comment

A Dandelion Achievement 

I remind you what the dandelions told me:

don’t be happy, they said

be content instead 

why smile when flatline lips looks so good on you

when other hearts shudder and thud

yours is still

but I still hear you begging

better make me, make me better, medicate me

make it last

time will scar me 

and the sun only shines half a day

it’s best to try

try to be happy

to smile through it all

to relish in hunger 

to moan as you loath

to indulge in the terror

the bleeding and belting

I remind you 

to water them

but tell you they are weeds

aSoSS 54 | Shorthand

a-spider-on-state-street Leave a comment

I’ve got sixteen thousand books, alphabetized to the second letter… upstairs, downstairs, all around the house. Whenever a kid moves out, L-M-N-O-P moves in!

Ann Arbor Thrift Shop, 12:00PM, 3/20/2025

after Mark Dunn, no AI–or perhaps all AI–

writing with limits is intrinsically artificial. it is a rapid trial, a radical thrill. it gnarls a typist’s script and mars a stylist’s paint. it is an infant child’s Christmas gift, a first kiss, a last wish. addicting—is it?

a man’s brain is marginally plastic, and static rigidity will stymy skill. insipid filth brings implicit bliss—this is a fact that all “first-drafts” will highlight. a rising military captain, lacking instinct, will miss critical tactics; an aspiring artist, lacking clarity, will stain fancy paintings. war, art, and writing: a barbaric trinity that pairs familiar fabrics with variant stitching. anticipating a lack in standard instills faith in a man’s final ability, balancing titanic affairs as if by magic.

They can’t call it KFC…

Why not? It’s Korean fried chicken!

Stamps Auditorium, 12:30PM, 4/11/2025

the recipe book is scrawled in shorthand, and you have left me to decipher it. a witches’ brew, a distortion of the highest order: in the bowl i mince garlic and seashells, add sugar to taste, substitute mint for jalapeño. a slap–to bring out the aroma, tainted or otherwise–and i don’t ask where you’ve learned it. a flutter of resistance: you tilt your head in the same way your mother does, did you know that? a scribble that asks for a constellation of lemon and thyme, no bigger than a pinch, no stronger than a drop. a signature, a token of unrequited silence, a butterfly beating its wings across the backdrop of the night.

What’s a DILF? It says that on the shirt over there.

Don’t worry about it.

Michigan Union, 2:30PM, 4/18/2025

the present tense is a disaster of unprecedented magnitude. whether it is labeled a tragedy or a comedy lies in the aftermath: what has ever been borne out of company except misery? we are pulling the weeds and uprooting the corners of the house, a currency assigned to choice. the spiderwebs have long vacated; the ones that escaped are the first to be buried away from their ancestors. the neighbors are identified by the dogs that they walk–who is the one that is truly leashed?