3rd Place : Next, Is | Miranda Cooper
the end of our rope.
made of flesh and fleas
red and white and cream.
the sound of worker boots on conflicted feet
trudging through an ancient forest.
can a deer look at you with anger in its eyes,
or does it just open its mouth?
a fist thrown at a tired
belly. a foot on an
of ants. a
goddamn word for a word.
the same sentence for the same people.
the same advice.
the sound of your reflection when it says,
“don’t you have anything better
don’t you know i haven’t any time?
don’t you know we write
with our left hand and choke
with our right?”
a star named for your great grandmother.
god bless her soul
and god bless you
and god bless the morning star that ate her up
and spit out
her dirty old bones.
too many heads
and not enough plastic bags.
Miranda Cooper has been writing poems since middle school. She is currently an English major with a creative writing emphasis at UNLV. Cooper has lived in Vegas her whole life and is an avid skier and a musician.