The Collapsar publishes new poetry, fiction, and nonfiction every other month, and new culture writing weekly.
Truth does not come naked
into this world. It is a plague
in the bones, a forged apology
slipped under the coffin’s lid.
An assumption winding its rope
round the womb. And even now,
how God puts all the little children
in church corners, cherubs
with stone eyes so no light
can get in. Do you remember
your private universe? Milky soup
then pulse then suddenly,
this second Genesis.
The carpenter hammering
to the beat of his own heart.
This is how we build everything.
We cannot camouflage
gravity. It will always hurt.
Lisa Mecham writes a little bit of everything, and her nonfiction, fiction and poetry have appeared in Catapult, Amazon’s Day One and BOAAT, among other publications. A Midwesterner at heart, Lisa lives in Los Angeles with her two daughters, where she’s finishing a book about mental illness in the suburbs.