Olivia Evans

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cicada husk
cerebellum
pig screech
dawn skin
of a brook
trout tight
pincers
of crayfish. that
long Michigan
A stretched out
across the bridge
of the nose.
gray mud of
the creek
bottom.
fracking drills
on the drive
to Indiana
low clouds
over the
highway sheet
pulled up
over a soiled
bed. don’t it
make you sick
says uncle
to the tv
don’t it just.
little girls
with baby
dolls between
their legs frogs
flattened
on concrete
from sunshine
and off-road
tires. bloat
tube down a
goat’s throat.
shales in the east
interstate
pipelines. sugar
grit stuck
on your
teeth. jaw
locked onto
the body of
the earth.
run your
tongue
over the
red of your
swollen
gums.
chew.
spit.

Olivia Evans is an alum of the University of Michigan’s undergraduate Creative Writing & Literature program. Her poems have been recognized by the Hopwood Program and affiliated contests at the University of Michigan. You can find more of her work in Soft Star Magazine. She currently resides in Ypsilanti, Michigan.