FALL
2019
KIOSK 61
Allie Carroll Ashes, 2019
PARADISE LOST
Allie Carroll Red Sand Beach, 2019
SINCERELY, HER SON by Logan J. Alexander I am the ghost she taught me to be— there’s safety in invisibility. Follow the rules, follow the rules, forever changing or pay her consequence in wounds.
A child, rendered invisible. Her hands, my collar, my back, her wall. I am the ghost of her American dream A distorted carbon copy she pins with harsh words and bitter disappointment.
I am a ghost but I still feel my body. If they do not see me does that dissolve my existence? Am I real or am I a figment of my own imagination? My fingertips dance amongst my ruins, I still feel me. I am a ghost, and I am— a son, a writer, the daughter I never wanted to be,
Am I a figment of my own imagination?
a student, a human, a ghost, a ghost, a ghost.
A man, shedding suffocating skin. Trans-lucency promising me a home, I pull on my ghost in silence, a frayed sweater over my head. Haunting these four walls, this is my solitude.
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