You slice me wholly through,
to my core.
I plunge the incision back at you,
and the foot-long dagger disappears
Author: Alphabet Ravine
Lydia Rae Bush (she/her) is a poet rooted in lyric and dramatic traditions, currently exploring collaboration, intertextuality, and ekphrasis. Rae's work is Best of the Net nominated, examines embodiment and social-emotional development, and includes Free Bleeding (dogleech books, '25), Keeper, Seeker, Dragon of the Sea (Bottlecap Press, '25), and All the Little Church Girls' Paper Dolls (fifth wheel press, ‘26. Lydia is an associate editor for Sage Cigarettes Magazine, and can be found pretty much anywhere, generally wiggling.
Comfortable (Submission Rejection Letter Erasure Poem)
Dear
your
Josie
Josie didn’t know me,
but I think that she was lonely
in her ignorance.
Trap
In memory, it is nobody’s fault.
The authority puts the wood burning stove out. The ashes
stir back to life.
Soft
I’ll forgive if you’ll forgive,
and I will love if you will love,
and I’ll have grace if you’ll have grace,
and I’ll be soft if—
Prof
He asked me to write him a poem.
He asked me to
reach out for rhyme and for rhythm. He asked me
to think, feel, and breathe, to be human. He said to
grab meter and put it in
structure and thrust it near
thought bubbles. He said to go
dabble with words and ideas and irony,
the girl in the dream
Pride in the girl in the dream who walked away,
screamed, It’s not worth it.
She screamed,
It’s never worth it.
I don’t know how she’d get away, if
she were trapped on every side,
Lowly
If it is my lot in life to be a worm of the earth,
then when they chip away
each piece of me,
Man-eater
Attention, attraction,
affection, attachment,
with trust in you too large to trust
myself so little,
Honest Cover Letter (American Sonnet)
Well, I am good for many things. At times,
when I’m bumped into I relax up to
the edges of my bubble, so the next
time that soul needs some human touch to ground
Alphabet Ravine 