blue…
BY LAURA CUNNINGHAM
one, i love you, two i cannot help this hope, the geese spill the season from the river, you don’t look up you just stay squinting and point one finger, i forget what i even apologized for, you are lovely and good, to think of the rest of the country from this city, i’m so mortal that i have little time to think it and when i’m there i’m like i swear i won’t write about the birds, i’m like what’s everyone doing and thinking, the rest of this country can’t breathe, i’m like drives trucks and abandons work and has all the time in the world and therefore is immortal within its life, space is cheap there, so wide, isn’t it almost time, a field of sunflowers go on forever, never ending, the roads are affable, laugh up and down hills toward both misery and compassion of one’s neighbor, i’m like the road in the rest of the country doubles, endless and nameless, being no one, going nowhere, for it is where worries meet with desire complex and small that materialize upon your wall, girls doing short practical haircuts and wearing embroidered shirts, the infinite sadness of London and loss and the fold out mattress, this is it.
About Me
Laura Cunningham is an incoming senior at The Independent School located in Wichita, KS. Her work is extremely important to her. About writing she says. “Whether people like it or not, as long as I had fun creating what I think is beautiful. I always put everything in my work to make it enjoyable.”
HYPERNOVA LIT 