The Ruins
Phenom to phoneme and rosin for grip, half risen from the blanket and all through with absence, you drag your talons through our dirt yard, spend dynastic coins on bullets and candy, say faith is good and yes it is fated, in limbo the first delinquent to sing.
Hook & Eye
I must’ve scared her, deadlocking our lives,
laying lead shingles, so earnest & pax.
I benched her an injury & did not pay.
She recurred through several rooms.
She gums the moon down to a stone.
I’m sick of slapping away bad stars.
-
Alana Solin is a writer from New Jersey. Her work has appeared in mercury firs, Afternoon Visitor, Dusie, Tagvverk, Annulet, Second Factory, and elsewhere. Her chapbook, Dead Ringer Blows, won the 2024 1BR / 3BATH Chapbook Prize from Tilted House and will be published in 2025. You can find out more at alanasol.in.