A poem in two parts. Pt. I I was born to this old and broken house and now it sits, aflame, and I weep. we live in a mostly burning neighborhood; we watch as we set our own fires; we know we have been swimming in gasoline since we moved in. “why are you shocked?”
The following poem is an extract from the chapbook metaphors, metonymies, & anthropomorphisms. It is published here with the kind permission of the poet, second-year EPST student Alexandria Sisson, in celebration and anticipation of the season to come.
Every Sunday evening at 8pm, when a hush has stolen itself over most of the BCB campus as students scramble to prepare for the week ahead, a motley crew of outspoken and observant personalities congregates in the W16 common room for an hour (or more) of poetry. If, on such a Sunday, you were to