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@metatronpress

- 4 days ago

RT @meaganmasterman: "Every woman a political prisoner." - Diane DiPrima.
h J R
@metatronpress

- 4 days ago

RT @meaganmasterman: Been thinking about this quote constantly since the @metatronpress reading of "Revolutionary Letters" more than a year…
h J R
@metatronpress

- 4 days ago

RT @metatronpress: 🔸We are (gasp!)… HIRING!🔸 Metatron Press is seeking a part-time Publishing Assistant for a 10-month-long contract. Appl…
h J R
@metatronpress

- 5 days ago

RT @micaela_poetry: she’s a 10 but also a poet
h J R
Archives

OMEGA | Ashley Opheim
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Author: Ashley Opheim

Anoosha Lalani

I swallowed a seed from an orange tree and it grew and grew ever so slowly in the garden of my shrinking belly....

Nooks Krannie

When I called you an envelope, I expected a few loss of eyebrow hair. The flesh dome where your upper lip fights to meet an uneven grass bed, was a surprise....

Sarah Feldbloom

Yesterday my body slapped against the seat in a metal boat while I weaved around the final bowl of Arctic waters that G.O.D. slid southward...

Noah Cicero

I don’t know, at times, if you are really people, I know you are people, I mean, you aren’t walking on fours, and you wear clothes. ...

Brad Casey

the land where we stand is the skin of a peach and the galaxy is a pancake the milky way is the original clock...

Allison Grimaldi-Donahue

I said, “I don’t smoke menthols” and I know I said it snobby like I’d never even been offered one before. It was the first time I’d smoked a cigarette in ten days; it was so minty....

Tara McGowan-Ross

Montréal august, always too hot or too cold since we got used to assigning that sort of value to temperature....

Laura Bardsley

from a short distance, palabra mistaken for tintinnabular, garbage trucks mistaken for string sections, drunken wails...

Eli Lynch

Just when I think I can tell you I feel nauseous on the bus ride to Prague, I am still hesitant and you’re deep sleeping....

Jessica Magonet

Alcohol loosened her lips – lubricated them like bicycle oil. Its delicate fingers undid the thread that stitched her pert mouth closed. Between sips of Bacardi, words tripped over the tip of her tongue and tumbled into the rainstorm....