Updated: Mar 2, 2020
Emerson Holmes attends Lindenwood University and is working on his English Literature degree. He is on the editorial staff for Lindenwood’s Arrowrock Journal, and has been previously published in the Eunoia Review and Crab Fat Magazine. He identifies as queer, and his work often reflects that. For inquiries, contact him at e.holmes.writer@gmail.com
the cankerous grackles in the parking lots swarming in synchronicity like a biblical plague they don’t scare easy no matter how mean you make your face instead they congregate right in your path and t
across the room from me, my guitar pulses bright colors, throbs dreams I can’t ignore. I think about sleep but the music’s too loud. my guitar sprouts lilies not intended to twine, purrs of birds I’ll
Hope to Thaw If I were frozen in the ground, I’d hope to thaw. I’m left with muddy footprints and sticky fingers- I’m a thief. I stole what I needed to survive: a wet tongue, a Celtic cross against a
