school – Page 2 – Jordyn Saelor

My first hero

The copper dome could’ve been a school or a mansion or a hill somebody polished. But people definitely lived inside, I could hear them talking, their machines buzzing, noises drifting to the mesa like heartbeats through a demon’s

Witch names/from that age

Upon my graduation from the demonic witch school in my hundred and thirty-second year, I chose the name Kook, Witch Kook, and didn’t care how silly it sounded. At least it wasn’t Isabel. Witch Isabel sounds like a question my second grade teacher would ask, “Which Isabel does this

Sisterhood of Spite

Do you remember any of our friends’ whereabouts from witch school? I know Dylanthia went back to the ancestral lands, Pogoth crossed the rainbow snake and got eaten, Xlthan fell into a mirror and met a new crew to hang with. Sometimes, though, I wonder if any of my friends were actually friends.

So it Seems

All the words that could be written have already been written with the hand of this mitten, cold fingers snow-smitten and numbed into repeating the same beats over and over like the floppy paws of a hungry-for-food kitten. — I keep a long document of most every poem I’ve written since 8th grade and lastContinue reading “So it Seems”

Fidget up a rainstorm

Fidget up a rainstorm like in elementary school when they taught about the water cycle– the sun heats a pond, makes the water drops so excited that they fidget up into the sky, join a cumulus clique, until they get sick with dancing in the club and precipitate from the party. — I’m too anxiousContinue reading “Fidget up a rainstorm”

do you regret the headline photos?

Do you miss me? I miss you. Last I saw you, head on my pillow, your face lit up my phone screen. They got the picture of you all wrong. – Teen drunk driver T-bones car, family of four rushed to hospital. – You made a joke of your senior year photo, you told theContinue reading “do you regret the headline photos?”

Tara’s Story: Playground Fights, Bicycles, Cars

Tara eased on the brakes, slowing to a halt at the sidewalk to the elementary school. Tamy stopped just ahead, shoes skidding. “There goes that idea,” Tara complained, backing her bike into the road. “Not necessarily,” Tamy answered, squinting at the army of teenagers swarming the playground. “We could totally take them in a fight.”Continue reading “Tara’s Story: Playground Fights, Bicycles, Cars”