The Restless Diplomat by Jacob Arasim

The Restless Diplomat

Jacob Arasim

 

Bethany, your nights are so long

And you cannot tell what’s wrong

Your threads touch only the ground

Dragging dirt, rain, where you wound

Puzzled, knowing there is no connection.

Everyone is clay, a smothering depression

Are you fat? Lazy? Forward? Tell me

Otherwise torture yourself—but you see

Desperation conjures mindless avoidance

And retreat to a shallow, pretentious disturbance.

“Fuck them all, good riddance anyway”

And perhaps wander like the stowaway

On the smelly bus eating a molded peach

Grasping to the sweets of confounded beseech.

Albeit other voices, gestures are sour

You have the nurturing power

To stand and outwait the arrogance

Leaving this pit to attend your patience.

 

 Jacob Arasim is a recent graduate from Boise State University, where he studied extensively in the English and Theater department for five consecutive years. He has been writing poetry and fiction since he was five years old, always poised to improve and develop the most fascinating stories. Poetry is as important to him as any chapter that unravels in his life. To Jacob, it's a medium that invites a reflection for the soul, a therapeutic procedure that exercises not only his creative voice as a writer, yet the personal, intimate experiences that transpire within the craft. Jacob especially wishes to share these experiences with his readers. 

Jacob Arasim is a recent graduate from Boise State University, where he studied extensively in the English and Theater department for five consecutive years. He has been writing poetry and fiction since he was five years old, always poised to improve and develop the most fascinating stories. Poetry is as important to him as any chapter that unravels in his life. To Jacob, it's a medium that invites a reflection for the soul, a therapeutic procedure that exercises not only his creative voice as a writer, yet the personal, intimate experiences that transpire within the craft. Jacob especially wishes to share these experiences with his readers. 

Solstice Party (After) by Kelsey Sipple

Solstice Party (After)


giddy and 18, eating cheesecake in a sandy parking lot – We make our way down to the jetty – shell bits and litter crunch and slip underfoot – & the sun hasn’t melted yet – pink sherbet dripping over sea grit, into barnacles, sugared and slick – I have just lost my body to an invasion – only once – only for a little while – just enough to want to be high all the time but not enough to cry – But when it’s dark, the coastline will light up – bioluminescence – tide pools prickling with tiny stars – do they always? have I been missing things? – How lucky are we to live at sea level – to be able to walk off a continent as we please – & I dream of stepping off, slowly dissolving in icy brine – discarding before – no longer afraid of hands, never a flash flood on Route 6 scouring it all, after. We will weigh the night quiet, soft on our learning shoulders – cupping the excess in cold fingers – understanding – sunset on the longest day is just like any other sunset – but we will remember it better –We will exhale – melt, too

 

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Originally from a small swampy town in Massachusetts, Kelsey Sipple is a Dartmouth College graduate currently based in Seattle, WA. Her work has appeared on poets.org and is forthcoming in 40Towns.