Category Archives: Poetry

An Ode to the Not-Me

I imagine she drives with the sunroof

open. That she slams

the pedals of a hippie van. That she

lives in a house that has a blue ground

floor, but a yellow second. That they are

separated by swirling, scalloped trim.

Her office would double

as a plant nursery that

the cats are not allowed

in. Oh yes, she has cats, two of them,

one for each dog, and a snake, who

curls around the arm like one would hug.

In this dreamscape, this would

not cause her to have to

take so much Allegra.

In her journals, she imagines

my roads; wonders at what speed

I am racing towards her. Analyzes

her face in the mirror, tries

to discern her age. Wonders—

how much longer must she wait?

When decorating, she would

believe in maximalism, pattern-mixing,

bright colors, that are complimentary or

otherwise. In this world, she can have

lots of things while only being

messy in a purposeful way that is pleasing to the eye.

That anytime she hears the birds chirp

outside, she chooses to eat on her porch

over poetry. She would spend too much

time mowing the yard, lost in thought. But

tells herself that this time is required

when the delicacy of a garden, the ancientness

of a tree is considered. Pretends

she does not have to catch

her breath at the thought

of a flat tire. I think she

goes to bed before eleven and

falls asleep in the first fifteen minutes.

In her slumber, she always dreams.

Dreams,

that I don’t miss—

the turn.

Kendall Cruise is a junior English (creative writing) and adolescence education major at SUNY Geneseo. When not obsessively revising their latest piece of writing, she can be found constructing hyper-specific playlists or on The Sims. They are a section editor for their college’s newspaper, The Lamron, and have been previously published in Gandy Dancer and Iris Magazine.

Some of the Things that I Do Not Know:

How to make the blinds go down

the first time it is attempted;

the names of all the fifty states, their star-

studded capitals to match; what

kind of chemicals make soda

that crisp, why I should be

worried about it; all the ways

one can say hello,

all the avoidant ways to say

goodbye; the difference

between tan &

beige &

khaki; how

one wears white pants

successfully, ever;

the marvel of fingers, how they move

precise & punctuated;

when, exactly, pasta is cooked

the right amount, whether

Italians of the past cry

as I chuck spaghetti at the wall;

how to dress for the weather

without somehow being too hot or

too cold or

both, at the same time;

the witchcraft that allows someone

to look comfortable in any picture, ever,

even the ones you don’t know

are being taken;

the art of texting

without sounding like your grandma,

but also not boring,

but also not like I am maybe

mad at you (which I’m not!

I’m just in desperate need

to figure out the right tonal qualities

of a text & when punctuation

is appropriate, or

if it’s ever appropriate).

Some of the things I do know

for sure,

probably; depending

on who you ask

& whether or not they are in a forgiving mood:

that every morning

the birds outside my window sing;

there is no other way that I would choose

to be woken;

that I practically have to chase

my teenage brother out

of my room,

that he refuses to bug

anyone else in this way; people

in my life

come to me for advice,

for support,

even when I have no

prior personal experience because they know

it will still be given

with

great

care;

that thoughtful notes in cards

make me cry, even the seventeenth time;

that I didn’t tell

my colorblind grandfather

my birthday cake was

neon orange & blue, not

brown

(and that it could have been

highlighter green

& I wouldn’t have loved it

any less);

that there is love, here, right now, always;

if only you were to just reach your hands out

& grab it.

Kendall Cruise is a junior English (creative writing) and adolescence education major at SUNY Geneseo. When not obsessively revising their latest piece of writing, she can be found constructing hyper-specific playlists or on The Sims. They are a section editor for their college’s newspaper, The Lamron, and have been previously published in Gandy Dancer and Iris Magazine.

To The Weeds that Might be in…My Garden

I have not felt your fertilizer flesh

in months. It contrasts against the coldness
of the world when I open my window.

I know the sun sheds and the rain seeps in

to your veins and I will no longer have

to miss you. They think that you are trouble,

sucking life out of my once prized lilies.

Your roots are planted in my garden, and

moments of weakness have caused me to pull.

The lilies still come up every year, they

do still thrive in their own way. I now know

what the real prize is: to nurture. To nurture you

like you will one day be prized as lilies.

You, you, you, you, it’s you, it’s you, it’s you.

Me, me, in me, in me, in me, it’s me, it’s me.

Kendall Cruise is a junior English (creative writing) and adolescence education major at SUNY Geneseo. When not obsessively revising their latest piece of writing, she can be found constructing hyper-specific playlists or on The Sims. They are a section editor for their college’s newspaper, The Lamron, and have been previously published in Gandy Dancer and Iris Magazine.