(not quite) a literary journal


Sticky Clementine Fingers and Lavender Fields: A Summer Reflection, by Kinsey Major


The Loud Bang!
hammers reverberating
off the metal pipes. 

Old things torn down to
make way for the newer, 
and here I am now
building new of what was old

My hammer swinging, 
I whistle a tune…


A magnolia, 
I see stretched high above
Protects me and shades
As I whirl past on my bike 

The hair slicked to my neck
wet from the waterfall I jumped
into, finds its’ way to flow behind, 
A trail of water

You right behind me 
Our clementines rolling around
in the baskets we zip tied to the back 
how fast we go! 

How do my small hands 
grasp these sunset skies? 
How do I scoop some into
the empty jars I collect



My body moves
Not in a graceful 
But in a clunky backwards step down the stairs, type of way 
It’s embarrassing 
My body trembles 

My body bends and
Breaks, for your 
What do you need
Want and desire
My body yelps

My body contorts to your idea 
Of a stubborn girl who
Doesn’t take shit from anyone
Really she just wants 
My body craves 

My body slows down
Trying to take up my own space
Exhausting the hours its
Spent trying to prove its
Raison d’etre
My body quits

Front Driveways

My mother, 
her lavender bushes bloom big 
and full in the relentless
texas skies 

My mother, 
       Loved to sunbathe
reflects her love of 
the plants she loves so dear
the color she chooses everytime

My mother, 
       Thrives in the sun
while some prefer the shade
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine”

a familiar tune 
your favorite song

Blank Morning Stare 

Soft buzz of a fat back TV
Reminds me of the engulfing silence
I keep it on to set a tune

It’s a whisper of a friend

Stay on
Don’t go
I don’t want to face this day 

Home No More

I did it. I came ‘home’ 
for the 1st time in weeks
to an apartment that looks foreign
for months no one has abided there

It feels like the time
I visited my now deceased nana’s house
a year to her passing

There were no signs of life in the house

but it seemed as though time had paused
on the afternoon she passed

I opened the fridge to find it bare
once a place of refuge for an individualistic
early twenties female
living alone 
Now a storage space for memories of a past life

Acid In the Desert 

A tab 
A tab placed 
Under my tongue  
Hidden from you

Heat radiates 
Heat radiates off 
My body;
A lizard sunbathing 

Altered experience;
Bubbling up 
No, no then
Just now

I lay naked in my tent 
Thinking of snakes 
Slithering over my skin
My silhouette

A tab 
A tab placed 
Under my tongue
Hidden from you
From me too  


Everything is a reminder of you
and I hate it because it is not

If only it were as easy
as seeing an object with your
and satisfying enough to remember you

but it isn’t
it won’t ever be

The time we spent together
feels like invisible scars
that affect
every part of my being 

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