Poetry

Q&A with Angela Meyer

Our founder and co-editor interviews Angela Meyer from #8

Your chest is still

what I dream of in sleep

A wink to myself, mother won’t know I’ve been in her makeup again

When a migrant is elected president

of the senior class and weevils

empty the bolls and the beloved state champions

I was able to move from nostalgia to time travel. It was like breaking a physical law, or a universal taboo