Poetry by Matthew Nolan
Cheekbones She paints her face like a clown and slices her wrists like plucking violin strings. Her classic look and bleach sprouts...
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Slowest Death When the black man with frosty white hair limps across the street to his concrete bed of stairs, God cries in the silk...
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The Woman Life became too much when a young mermaid confused about her tail and scales began to love me in ways that made twilight...
read moreAttention Proud Americans
Hello Proud Americans! I finally found out what my neighborhood looks like. The caption below describes the end of my street; an eyes...
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Dear family, friends, U.S. Citizens, all of humanity: I am safe. I am alive. My heart is broken. Thank you for your concern. This...
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