PCC INSCAPE MAGAZINE
  • Folio No.8 Fall 2022 Love Letters
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      • Issue Intro
    • FOLIO No.3 -- Moon Moon Spring 2019
    • FOLIO No.4 Celebrating New PCC Writers
    • FOLIO No.5 City of Redemption
    • FOLIO No.6 Spring 2020
    • FOLIO No. 7 - Winter 2021 Into the Forest
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Adrineh Arakelian

Climate

​It's pouring down, not quite
perpendicular to the ground. 
The angle and velocity vary widely with 
the sway of branches across the street.

Perched in my attic room, 
the drops on telephone wires
slightly elongate with gravity. I
hear humming from the electric heater, 
oscillating at my feet. It's not even yet 
October. Remember the gulf coast storms?

How I resent the consistency
of mists and drizzle. 
How I want a hard rain, 
fast-changing weather, 
downpours like a river crossing in the road,
culverts an adult could crawl into.

A drink in one hand, 
a sweet face dancing with me.
That collection of souls draws 
me like a magnet to metal.
B-O-R-N-T-O -R-U-N 
tattooed on their knuckles. Laughter
amidst large bellies, shaking and aching.

I followed a tragedy there, 
much later, after civilization, after 
the post-disaster gold rush,
attention already turned to loss elsewhere.

You can't stay after the crowd's gone. 
There's left just the mess of 
Mardi Gras beads from last year's parade, 
hanging from the branches of 
majestic live oaks, sun-bleached, 
driven over, ground into the asphalt road.

The staggered roof shingles
glisten in the hard rain
giving the appearance of movement. 
But they're stapled, stuck in place, 
trying to keep the deluge at bay.

Kindergarten

I don't know what drove me
in the car all the way from Biloxi.
A voice within said,
Go, take the job.
Otherwise, your future?
Forget about it. You're going nowhere.
That voiced shoved me out of my comfort 
packed my stuff, sold my furniture, bought me new tires,
and pushed the pedal from Biloxi to here.

Damn that voice
Damn that insecure self
Who thought I needed more
Who thought my loves weren't enough
Who wanted me proper and clean,
hardworking and humorless,
surrounded by draw-the-blinds, sun-allergic architects.

After the layoff, my first jobless day, 
I sat at the toe of the hill
overlooking Lake Union sparkle
savoring my pistachio gelato
all the pores of my being absorbing the daylight star
like it was the first day of summer vacation 
and I was done with the yardstick whacking,
drawn-in eyebrows schoolteacher for the rest of my life.
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  • Folio No.8 Fall 2022 Love Letters
  • About
    • PCC Inscape Instagram
  • SUBMISSIONS
  • ISSUE ARCHIVE
    • PRINT Chapbook No.6 Healing Arts
    • Online Issue No.9
    • Online Issue No.1 Fall 2016
    • Online Issue No.2 Spring 2017
    • ONLINE Issue No.3 Fall 2017
    • PRINT Vol 72 No 2 Fall 2017
    • PRINT Vol 73 No.1 Fall 2018
    • ONLINE Issue No. 4 Fall 2018
    • Online Issue No.5 Summer 2018
    • FOLIO No.1 Fall 2018 VOTE
    • ONLINE Issue No.6 Fall 2018 Fall Spirituality
    • FOLIO 2 Fall 2019 Celebrating Dia De Los Muertos
    • ONLINE Issue No.7 Spring 2019 >
      • Issue Intro
    • FOLIO No.3 -- Moon Moon Spring 2019
    • FOLIO No.4 Celebrating New PCC Writers
    • FOLIO No.5 City of Redemption
    • FOLIO No.6 Spring 2020
    • FOLIO No. 7 - Winter 2021 Into the Forest
  • Feral Parrot : The Blog
  • 2022 Handley Awards
  • INTERVIEWS
  • Inscape Alumni Board