Upasana Mitter
“Negative (Black) – Watercolour and Pencil”
Inspiration Piece

Noesis
By KJ Hannah Greenberg
Response

Activity of the nous, that is, intellectual pursuits, seem
Like davits forever reaching for belongings gone adrift.
No cerebral lifeboat ever managed to rescue victims of
Restorative justice; compensation does not perpetually
Right wrongs; sometimes, it amasses irregular messes.

Consider that nonce words would be seen as erotic, new,
Even when priced past multilevel marketing. Ultimately,
It’s what’s cultivated among the youngest denizens that
Counts. No manner of forgery can deliver better results.

By and large, audiences’ verbalized spectacles are loud.
Usually, they avoid shoring up others’ losses instead of
Languishing afraid of recrimination/odd temperaments,
Enough to seed plants or further vulnerable stuffs. Once
Sidelined concepts sprout, they often grow into premises.

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Note: All of the art, writing, and music on this site belongs to the person who created it. Copying or republishing anything you see here without express and written permission from the author or artist is strictly prohibited.

KJ Hannah Greenberg
“Pea Shoots”
Inspiration piece

one song supposedly about a cat (nothing more)(nothing less)
By Upasana Mitter
Response

I’m prone to making cardboard dollhouses.
the summer of 2017, pea shoots lining my mother’s grave
soft sprouts of green, silken petals of white
here grows the apophasis of mine dreams
under buttery yellow afternoons of me stretched out
like a velvet-furred cat, pawing lazily towards the many, many things
that I am supposed to be accomplishing.

dreams, such translucent, flimsy things
stretched out to the point of being torn apart dramatically
altered, into a state of no return, whether due to student
debt that crushes tiny indentations into your flesh, or the
scars that spread like constellations across your skin, or
your constant use of anxiolytics and knitting mittens for your sister’s baby.
but I am a cat. I have no use for such things.

left all alone in the country of such sad things. chewing
hungrily at important paper certificates and homomorphisms.
this will sustain me, this will do for now.

the days unfold in front of me, the fleas dancing on my
skin: I am a cat. I am a cat. I am a cat. I do not look at
the soup cans that have locusts breeding within them, or
the house that keeps coming undone under my feet or
the gentle grooming of the sunlight running its fingers through my fur
telling me everyone other than me knows and believes that it is
going to be alright. the pea shoots reach up to the sky now, stretching

their blooms toward the sun. do you want to hold it too?
do you want to hold it as much as I do?

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Note: All of the art, writing, and music on this site belongs to the person who created it. Copying or republishing anything you see here without express and written permission from the author or artist is strictly prohibited.