I did witness quite a sight
Returning from the grocery store:
A disheveled scene, a ripened fight
Left the fridge basted in war.
It started with the Surly beers,
They shoved peach Yogurts to the back.
Knowing well they’d be forgotten —
They took it as a personal attack.
One young custard whisked up top and
Let out its gurgling, dairy cry
To engage their reinforcements in
The cheese drawer, under Apple Pie.
A squad of Mozza Sticks strung up
Advancing toward spicy Ortega,
When suddenly condiments rained from above —
Flinging them a-Weyauwega.
The crusty caps of ketchup broke
I’ll start by saying that I am not a traditional athlete. In fact, I’ve never considered myself to be any kind of athlete. I was the kid picked second-to-last in gym class — the only reason I wasn’t dead last being that I always volunteered to be the dodgeball decoy. But the moment I stepped out onto my first beautifully wooded course I had one immediate revelation: I was in love with disc golf.
Disc golf is played by throwing plastic discs (there are drivers, mid-ranges, and putters) from a tee box to a metal basket in the least amount…
*TW: this personal essay discusses or alludes to multiple forms of trauma, including physical abuse, sexual abuse and suicidal ideation.*
In 2011 I signed my life away to the U.S. government and boarded a plane from Des Moines, Iowa to Parris Island, South Carolina. I was bound for Marine Corps boot camp and everyone who had ever known me up until that point was utterly baffled as to why.
As a kid, I was always happy, outgoing, loving… soft. At least, that’s how I appeared to people on the outside. …
Every now and then when I reminisce about my time in the military I have moments that click in my brain. Unfortunately, these are usually stories of situations that highlight how messed up things can be for women in the military, and though leadership is trying to take gender disparities seriously they still have a long way to go.
Last night after dinner at my partner’s parent’s house we got talking about current events. Eventually this led to some talk about the military and my deployment to Afghanistan in 2015. …
Warm air whorled within our lungs
Humid-thick, oppressing, stale,
Mixed with the smell of cigs and burnt toast.
My future-sister and I (not yet knowing)
Heard the call of fresh air — and answered.
The Mountain awaited us.
The hills of gravel and dirt and sand
Wore solid under the wheels of our bikes.
A graveyard construction site
Where the earth was ripped from her crust.
She bled dust upon The Mountain.
Small life slipped away
As it choked and panicked and clawed out for help.
Plants withered away until
Dry stalks stood guard over
The unmoving bodies of mice and crows.
As autumn comes to an end, Minnesotans brace for winter and the mountains of snow and ice that usually accompany it. We all know the next several months will be spent mostly indoors and out of the subzero temperatures.
A lot of disc golfers consider this to be their off-season where they plan to wait out the snow-covered courses until spring melts the ice. However, playing through the winter can pack a ton of benefits into your game and it doesn’t have to suck! …
I have been living without social media for most of the last 2 years. I say “most” because it’s almost impossible to not come across it — and I did try Instagram for a month in October 2020 (to post photos of my pup) but eventually deleted that account as well. But honestly, the idea of living without social media started almost 6 years ago for me, meaning… it took me 4 years to finally quit.
Social media is a form of addiction. Seriously, “…people who use social media incessantly often have attitudes, thoughts, and behaviors that mimic those of…
Disclaimer: This is a parody of the original Night Before Christmas poem published anonymously in the Troy (New York) Sentinel on December 23, 1823, and the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. I hope you enjoy and have a happy holiday!
’Twas the night before Yule, when all throughout Hogwarts
Not a creature was stirring, not even Draco’s cohorts.
The icicles were hung in the common rooms with care,
In hopes that Headless Nick soon would be there.
The students were nestled all snug in their beds,
Whilst visions of Chocolate Frogs danced in their heads. …
I realized I made a mistake the first day I met the “downtown” employees. I had recently been laid off from my dream company a few months prior due to an acquisition where my position was nullified. While heartbroken, I scoured the high seas for a suitable and quick replacement. A girl’s gotta eat and support her RPG book collection.
They threw all the new employees up at the front of the room together. The powerpoint screen behind us read, “Get To Know You.” …
Soft whispers on the wind fly far
Across the parched, dry plains of grass
And mingle with memories of wings
That once flew peacefully en masse.
Echoes of bygone greenery
Wriggle through the barren hills,
Sustaining those few left to breathe
The cloudy air through plastic gills.
Grainbelt soil, soaked rich in blood
Grows little now but stippled leaves,
Their bronze limbs stretching up and up —
But no tree now will reach the eaves.
The terror came. The terror went.
Through it’s toxic breath death reeked.
The sun shone bright. The sun fell black.
Humanity had reached its peak.