Remember the time I sloshed in a wave pool in South Florida? It was so hot
that I had a heat stroke and died. I’m not here anymore and isn’t that funny?
Time stops for me and for you and grows up between sidewalk cracks
and I think that’s what magic is. Have you watched a weed grow?
They grow and don’t stop for anything. What do you think it is to be so tenacious?
I hope to grow up and be torn from the ground and blown apart like dandelion seeds.
Make a wish on me
The American Dream
the unrelenting fist
as it cracks your tooth
and shatters your jaw.
The waiting room chair
can only sustain you for so long;
who will scrub the tiles clean when
the vital blood pools beneath your head.
The doctor will see you now. Tell him you’d like to call the police.
Morgan Russell (she/her) is a pansexual poet/writer from Atlanta, GA who loves to explore topics of philosophy, truth, identity, belonging, and mental illness. She has a BA in Rhetoric, and is in search of anyone who knows what that means. She aspires to get an MA and PhD in Communication and has publications in Cabildo Quarterly, The Peacock’s Feet, and Five2One Magazine’s #thesideshow. All of her social media is @conniptionns; follow her for ramblings of all sorts.