Ghost Poet Unscrews the Chandelier a Little Every Day



Ghost Poet Unscrews the Chandelier a Little Every Day  


When I grew tall enough to touch

the ceiling, I made the crystals swing

every color: I am become

death. I am become rainbow

maker. O atom bomb;

O atom arranged in lattice

like I’d climb to tap the window—

that house is gone. That window,

that chandelier. That too-tall girl, reaching.

O quartz, I don’t know what to do

with my hands. They tick with such potential.


Lauren Yarnall is a third year Master of Fine Arts candidate in Poetry at the University of Idaho, where she also works as the co-editor-in-chief for Fugue. She is from Ellicott City, Maryland and received her bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing from Salisbury University. Lauren was named finalist of Yemassee's 2018 Poetry Contest and her work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Sugar House Review, Muzzle Magazine, Thrush Poetry Journal, Puerto del Sol, Yemassee, and elsewhere.


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