If I have said the truth permitted and nothing but the truth permitted,
have you seen, in my navigation of social convention,
my honesty? My openness?
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.
Adaptation
Strong and small and fragile and soft,
and always still standing-
#ally #enlightened
The stranger said, “My name is Ken.
What can I ask the god of the universe for, for you?”
I said, “I need my husband to land a job
that pays some bills while preserving his health.”
Ken said, “You don’t understand your plight
as a woman in our sexist world-
Opportunity
I can do
anything,
but sometimes I do
nothing,
Vegas, baby
My face flashes from grimacing to batting lashes,
from hope to fear, from please to thanks,
to challenging, to I
Flagrant
Topless with the windows open.
Dramatic Flair
Life’s a beef stew,
and what’s a better way
to show what the flavor of a mixture
boils down to
Villain’s Heir
Without the love,
where’s the safety?
Without the safety,
where’s the peace?
Harbor
Your respect for me stands as tall and immovable
as the cliff. You ebb and flow,
as the lapping waves.
Outsider Complex
Sometimes I would like to be a hero—
Clean-handed, showing up,
averting eyes while all the villains
fall on their own swords.
(After I stare morbidly
while my beloved bargaining chips cry.)
Alphabet Ravine 