Lance Larsen
Lance Larsen grew up in Idaho mowing lawns, delivering newspapers, and dreaming of Bigfoot. His sixth poetry collection, Making a Kingdom of It, is forthcoming in December.
Bring Me a Horse
Instead of bending spoons with our thoughts, we broke / popsicle sticks with our fists. We didn’t have beards yet, / so we slathered our faces in mayo and shaved / with butter knives. This was called tasting the world / with our skin, and this was called happiness times ten.
October 2024The Den Mother Has Her Say
Before we eat our snow cones, pet this dog. Don’t expect to earn a Wolf badge for your troubles. . . . Move slowly down the back, like you’re taking your fingers on a trip, until you get to the bulge on the haunch. Yes, it’s a tumor. Yes, it’s cancerous. Pet it like it’s nothing special, just part of the dog.
March 2023Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? We’d love to hear about it.
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