Cocktail Hour
there were mornings when i’d wake up
and the weight of my own skin
felt too heavy… … Read moreCocktail Hour
Category: Poetry
Junebug
Brown anoles skittered over scorching cement,
as they desperately fled sweaty fingers
covered in chalk dust
and a lopsided smile that was missing a couple teeth. … Read moreJunebug
Mamá, Ángel, Florida
A collection of poems by Vivienne Serret … Read moreMamá, Ángel, Florida
NE 8th Ave by NE 9th St*
Right foot pulses. The red sign becomes
my start and stop,
an upside-down triangle beckoning
into the circle. I enter,
begin the counterclockwise dance
between thousands of pounds and brains
rebooting behind the wheel … Read moreNE 8th Ave by NE 9th St*
Gated
Driving in, I spotted her.
Standing in the only shade for blocks
on a boulevard of vast divergence,
but little in the way of trees,
with layered clothing, a knit beanie, and boots … Read moreGated