Her scent entices
I’d risk chill for first tender
fragrant breeze of March
(feat. in The Lanthorn)
Author: Alphabet Ravine
Lydia Rae Bush (she/her) is a poet exploring themes of embodiment and social-emotional development. Her work is Best of the Net nominated and can be found in publications such as Corporeal, Querencia Press, and Bleating Thing. Her chapbook Free Bleeding is out now with dogleech books.
Ani’s Song (Star Wars 3)
I tried to wine, dine, and dance
after holding your rough hands,
closing my eyes,
slaying grace.
Illusions of my upper crustRead More »
Esme
I feel like a toilet paper roll
on a steep mountainside-
always struggling upwards,
not moving at all.
Afraid of falling down.Read More »
Lesson Plans
Grubby thumbs, bubble gum, and tire swings
set the stage for recess- Our turn to teach.
Sean’s sitter had shown him some algebra.
Keith knew what sex was. Hazel had met God,
and Em could map the local ghost’s hide outs.
Me? I shared my expertise on hatred-Read More »
Digging Through the Attic Chest
Digging through the attic chest,
throwing kisses across the floor
Digging through the attic chest,
scavenging for something moreRead More »
the girl that fell
The fists that hit,
cuffed.
The feet that kicked,
chained.
The girl that fell,Read More »
Dig
Soft, fresh, padded arms,
never tanned, never starved,
freshly powdered, swung their way
to Grandma’s House.
I knew I visited the coolest grandmother
when my tear-free washed, towel-dried arms
pressed out against cool linoleum,Read More »
Kyrie
Is this what you expected?
Probably.
If childhood is war, what is life past the cusp of innocence?Read More »
the thumping
pound
on
the pavement
poundRead More »
On the Death of Pop Pop
Do you imagine God used his thumbs
when he formed Adam from the dust?Read More »
Alphabet Ravine 