Windows with no blinds. Fires with no flame. Homes with no doors. Souls with no bodies. Souls with half-bodies. Souls with front porches. Throats raw with trapped words. Sicknesses with no names. Clocks that strike on the hour. Clocks that strike you every hour. Young mother cats who give birth to more cats, alone. Wildernesses that tremble. Rocks labeled as fool’s gold. Planets which aren’t sure of themselves. Planets with angst. Pluto? Earth. Planets that compete for titles of worst and best inhabitability. Us, who spin. Governments that love. Ungovernable people. Stars that align. You that is ungovernable. Food without preservatives. Preservatives which get a bad name but are just trying to make things last longer. Eyes which cannot meet other eyes, pathologically. Earthworms with instincts to bury themselves. Slits? You with an instinct to bury yourself. Hometowns. Father cats who leave. The mating conversations of fireflies. Teddy bears being loved on and missing an eye. Humans being loved on and missing hair? Fruit flies that fly fruitlessly. Dragonflies that fornicate. Fireflies that eat other fireflies. Humans who digest food quickly and other things slowly. Bees that pollinate joyfully. Loves that sing. Humans who understand the bad is truly for the good. Loves that are thought into existence. Facts that are felt into existence. Mechanical fireflies. Homeowners. People who leave before the chorus. Homecomings. Planets that compete for absurdity. Feelings that freeze over. Kindnesses that shackle. Skirts with slits. Years that ache. Mantises who pray. Words that taste like deflated whipped cream. Vending machines. Skills which are only useful in another time on another planet. Phobias that deserve mentions in textbooks. Bananas who withdraw when peeled as if ashamed. Pilots who quit on the job. Homeward? Time that crunches. Time that crawls. Hours that fly. You who crunches and aches in unexpected ways at inconvenient times. Sneezes that aren’t sneezed. Gods who listen deeply. Gods who watch movies. Trees that cry while being cut. Homebodies. Birds that migrate undecidedly. Blueberries that know they are of limited edition. Homegrown? Gods who command you must only love this sort of person in this sort of way or else. You who is written about in a textbook. Children who learn subtraction. Animals that swallow themselves. Homeschools. Loves that shout. Words that ring true. Angels that adjust the temperature in heaven. Angels that adjust the temperature on earth. Suns that rise in semantics only. Glowing abdomens. Front lawns. You who descended from angels or similar and can never forget while being told this all the time. Words from broken homes. Grandmothers who weep. Skyscrapers that skyscrape. Fruits that have their reproductive ability removed. Spirits that make themselves known in small ways. Pianos that are rented and returned. Bats. Sadnesses that teach other sadnesses how to properly sadness. Gods who love in unusual ways. Beliefs that are personal matters. Towers that lean for attention. Insects that grieve. Vague inclinations to cry. Homemakers. Rib subluxations. Cats with no home and if not adopted in a week to be euthanized. Bodies which hesitate. Homestretches. Clothing made of plastic. Flies on walls that observe sexual relations. You who observes joy curiously. Earths that shiver. Turtles who wear their homes on their backs. Things that give birth to other things. Things that scream while giving birth. Things that scream while being birthed. Things that scream look at them look at them we’re so proud of our offspring! Soups that scald their cook. Soups that disappoint their cook. You who eats soup reluctantly on warm days. Stars that agitate. Bats? Hair that splits when yelled at. Prefabricated houses. Viruses that mutate charitably. Babies who smirk. Blinds that blind. Dresses that unravel at the seams. Homespun? Homes that spin their inhabitants. Words with unusual homes. You who seeks a home in every warm place. Homesickness. Government handouts. Us, who are just trying to shelter and preserve ourselves. Spirits that make themselves known in unruly ways. Glowing as a defense mechanism? Homes with mortgages. You who doesn’t understand mortgages. Haunted houses. You as a spirit. You who gets the feeling at times the world is one big, haunted house. Machines. Homes with front porches. Homes with back porches. Homes with multiple stories. Homes with one story. Unmentionable things. Banks owning homes. Longing. Words with no home. You who doesn’t understand that which you’re supposed to. You who can’t stop lighting up in a jar.
Writer| Rivkah Lefkowitz ‘27 | ylefkowitz27@amherst.edu
Editor | Jorge Rodríguez Jr ‘26 | jrodriguezjr26@amherst.edu
Artist | Hannah Kwon ‘27 | hwkwon27@amherst.edu