When the town said to mercy kill
and the sage said to pity-spare
but you had a moment of compassion,Read More »
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.
Pedestal
Your world she’s never entered
over which she was the queen
shakes beneath her every footstep,
though its sky she’s never seen.Read More »
narrative
I examine all the women who aren’t needy whores.
I see my reflection and hear their affirmations,
and start to think that maybe I’m no needy whore myself,
until I fear these women are just whores like me-
Excruciate
What I don’t know how to describe is the pain,
the brutality of saying no,
the agony of walking away,
prying my own hand, and making him go.
gives birth to baby in bombed kyiv metro station
When you came to be inside me,
our bodies decided we would survive,
and we chose a supporting role in all their mysteries
when survival meant nurture and shelter.
Charlie
Charlie, ever pleasant as
a glowing fireplace
offered friendship to the world,
with beauty on his face.Read More »
Our Old Getaway
The heart building… … …All the good, true,
right, and real … locked inside-
I will cherish it,
wear it
like
a
locket,
open it up
and smell,
inhale
deep,
cry myself to sleep,
and smile
one of the genuine smiles
as each of the surround miles
Read More »
Child of the Open Air
Grabbing my toes,
I pull my butt out from beneath me,
flip me upside down,
and shake.
I plop her back on her butt and smack
her back and wait
and wait and wait
for her to burp, spit or vomit,
or to drop from any pocket
identity
not quite a train wreck
but a train that keeps starting and stopping
going the wrong way on the track
and isn’t it sad?
trying not to have an adjective
the hoe and the manwhore
My lies loved yours.
Our scars and alter egos danced,
and your ghost rolled over, straddling mine.
I found a shield in a linguistic sword;Read More »
Alphabet Ravine 