sometimes maggie rogers is the only thing that makes sense a year ago i had it all figured out: a somedaydream flecked with mica. rose quartz frogs. raspberries & landlines. now look – a closed door and the redwoods are burning. i sing to my coffee plant. i talk to the moon. there are seventy-two swans in the park & they teach me all their dauntless. a bluejay be way too loud in the dark and, y’know, i get it. i start by counting the miracles. strawberry leaves. neon acrylic. a ball of focaccia dough on the counter unbaked cloud rising in a glass bowl. my favorite peanut butter gets discontinued & finally i understand loss. the bottles keep filling with dragonflies. all the seesaws are out of order. a sunbeam swallows the ocean. every monarch is sunk by the light.
Arianna Monet is a queer Black poet from eastern Massachusetts. Arianna’s work can be found in Honey & Lime Literary Magazine, What Are Birds? Journal, and elsewhere. She likes unreasonably strong tea, hates waterproof eyeliner, and wants to send love letters to every whale on earth.