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Jacob Kolasch
30 followers -
master of fine arts/creative writing
master of fine arts/creative writing

30 followers
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They pretend to be resurrection men. Stitching feathers into my skin. They pretend to fly when they send me into the sun. I pretend to be on fire, streaking like a comet. But I am only held together with glue. Featured Image by Debaird under Creative…
Icarus- A Poem.
Icarus- A Poem.
jacobkolasch.com
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I don’t remember his name. He probably didn’t have one, but he always had a drink. He cradled the glass between his fingers, swirled himself into the amber liquid before letting it calm and taking a deliberate sip. I knew it was deliberate. He would lift…
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Her belly is round and kicking. It shows when she walks, tight lipped determination as tight as the knots she kneads in the small of her back. When she kisses the toilet every morning she empties her secrets and flushes them away. But they never go away.…
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When cars are used as weapons, do you see your naked reflection in the rear view mirror, or are you astonished— deflecting off the fender. Are you the people on the sidewalk, standing with signs or bricks? Their hands divide like houses— listen to what…
Blindside- A Poem.
Blindside- A Poem.
jacobkolasch.com
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You let your hair fall into your eyes so you wouldn’t see that I still glance away, embarrassed. You know it’s not shame. I hold onto innocence tightly, tighter almost than I hold onto your hips— this is not the first time. I’ve lost count the times a…
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Waves try to steal her. Crash into rocks and spray, blue fingers twist and knurl. Try to catch red hair. Her skin is crisp— salt baked by the sun. But her eyes do not look at Poseidon’s rage. She drops her robe and steps, naked, into the sea. Quiet, the…
Fury- A poem.
Fury- A poem.
jacobkolasch.com
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There’s a piece of writing advice that has always bothered me. And I’ve heard it frequently enough to always be bothered by it. “Write what you know.” It’s a fair piece of advice, I’ll give it that. But it’s also absolute crap. Yes, as writers, we need to…
What You Know.
What You Know.
jacobkolasch.com
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She sits in the shower and he swirls down the drain. The unstained oak is rough against her naked feet. Un-sanded burs catch and splinter. They were going to finish the deck. She watches the sun dissolve, Alka-Seltzer for the sea. She has the shower hot—…
Cauterize- A poem.
Cauterize- A poem.
jacobkolasch.com
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Snow is the clouds exploding. The fury of heaven, condensed and frozen until it cracks— splinters and envelopes the world. Children come to play god, making men and women, crude forms rising from the white and motionless. Children can’t breathe life. So…
Burst- A poem.
Burst- A poem.
jacobkolasch.com
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It’s been about four months since I’ve become unemployed. I was laid off just three months after getting what I thought was my dream job. Or at least a stepping stone on that path. Now? I don’t know. I have spent the last four months applying to jobs,…
Purpose.
Purpose.
jacobkolasch.com
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