Capturing Campus: December

Violent Midnight

blurry eyes

heavy face

itching for sleep

that won’t come

because the ball will drop at midnight

shining in a million colors

levitating like a God

among men

the crowd stretches 

blocks away

counting down

destruction in ten

shattering

fracturing

an explosion

ringing ears

ring in the new year

new excitement

five minutes until midnight

and I’m starting to question

the expense, an effort done

just to destroy the ball

why ring in the new year

with violence

one minute

thirty

fifteen

ten

nine

eight

seven

six

five

four

three

two

one, it drops

but doesn’t plummet

falls but doesn’t break

why did I expect it to

b r e    a k ?

aSoSS 07 | Holiday

Don’t take more than one cookie, there are a lot of kids that are going to come in!

No, I’m just putting one in here and saving it for later. Don’t worry, my mom taught me better.

Ypsilanti Freight House, 5:00PM, 11/26/2023

when we are young, morality is measured by the wrath of our mothers. does it ever outgrow us? perhaps it takes the form of an instinct. nature is temporary; nurture is permanent. we go out of our way to change our bodies, yet we falter at the hands of the past. a friendship, a lover, a traumatic event — we used to cry, do you remember? now your tear ducts are swollen shut and your makeup masks the bruise.


What about this? [holds up a Hot Wheels toy]

This won’t work. We gotta think of something that he won’t put in his mouth.

Kroger, 5:30PM, 12/14/2023

the world is transformed for two months into a tint of red and green. a holiday is meant to be shared, not enforced, yet the wreaths are strung with purpose. ornaments surge forward, cleaving the branches of a leafy sea. my skin pebbles into cold bumps, like paint dried too quickly. red for fury, green for jealousy… compliments or complements? it’s impressive how there is always something worse to say. how deep you can sink a knife depends on the length of the handle and the angle of the words uttered. soft, slanted, backhanded — wait for christmas day and unwrap what you wish for.


The first time I came here I saw a line outside and I was like “Nope! I’ll come back another day!”

Daiso, 2:00PM, 12/16/2023

how intimate the act of gift giving can be! i am an isocline, a gradient, a slope of feelings. what sits under the tree is a pile of presents, a heap of debts uncollected. happiness cannot be bought, you say, but you swipe your credit card on the gifts anyway. rent your affections by the hour! which is the greater treasure, the present or the company? separate yet intertwined, one must exist in the scope of another. there is no price tag on the pleasure of love: one is measured in dollars, the other in beats per minute.

aSoSS 06 | Expectations

He’d say something horrendous and then turn and look at me and be like “right?” Um, no??

– Mosher-Jordan Dining Hall, 12/1/2023

humans are strange creatures. with which other species is the support of one is enough to guide the gaze of a hundred? we come up with words and use them to convince others that the words we utter are true. have you ever met a false preacher? don’t let the robe deceive you — as harry frankfurt says, bullshit is not false, but phony. you flop like a fish out of water. are you acting to sell, or are you selling your act?


We can style people’s hair but we have to have neutral hairstyles ourselves.

Exactly, it doesn’t make sense. The times are changing…

In-N-Out, 1:30PM, 12/12/2023

i meet you outside the gates of the airport. for some reason, i was afraid i wouldn’t recognize you. you’d cut your hair, i noticed. i later learn that this was in a time of crisis. why wasn’t i there to support you? i was scared. your face splits my vision, like a crystal of ice in the sunshine. emeralds glisten. i reach out to grab them — your hands, your gemstones — and they are cold, impossibly so. my fingers burn. you melt away and stain the epoxy, streaks of luggage mixed with strands of your hair.


Yeah, I’m a senior this year.

How’s that going?

It’s pretty busy… when I’m not at school or working I hang with my friends a lot… my mental health is basically dependent on being able to see my friends, so I’m not home a lot, I know my mom doesn’t like that…

Hong Kong Gifts, 12:00PM, 12/16/2023

a quiet disconnect from reality. i am four again and watching from waist-height as high school students sip and chatter away. time passes through a polaroid: oblique, grainy, heavily accented. i remember sitting at a cafe and watching a young child stare. i was that student once, just once, before i met you. perhaps i stared my way into your life, just as your eyes stared their way into mine. friends, lovers, students, mothers. i am four again, but this time i look away.

Capturing Campus: December

Heaven on Earth

are you born from the snow

an angel? 

or something real

phosphorescence, incandescence

I double over at the sight of you

you call my name

I’ll carry you

to the Heavens

we’ll rise

but I’ve forgotten

my back doesn’t come with wings

so you rise while I

f

     a

           l

               l

all I want is too high

so I lay in the snow

where I found you

When my legs become the white noise crinkling from the tv in a storm

This is where my voice is 

Socotra coffee house is a sea of color

And when I order my small adeni chai I feel at home in a language I don’t understand

My heels hanging on to a metal seat frame 

Typing busy bees, the meaning of indeterminancy, and complaints of capitalism

“And when you cross this divide, you’ll get what we’ve all been denied” 

I call my mother because I’ve finally found the right line

Note from the poet:

This is the first poem in the new Written in red series, which are poems focusing on the personal, creative, and political