These Trying Times Are Stagnant.

by Connor Zimmerman on January 16, 2020


A mile marker that reads 10? in the middle of a desert
Photos courtesy of and Graphic Design by Sarah McLaughlin ’23

by Sam Ward ’21

I conquered moon cycles, fake news, reignited lighters
with no signs, nowhere to hide, huh.
It’s life, it’s all surprises,
we live; the vibe is priceless.
But when you rewrite the mileage,
you see, these times are stagnant.

I used to do this every day.
Now I cannot remember what I said yesterday.
Maybe it is complacency or that part of me rebelled,
Or there are greater forces at work, my chakras disassembled.
I used to turn my truths to fiction,
now just, solace in superstition.

If it is not nourished, we forget.
When trying times establish, we neglect.
If it is not tied together, what’s the point?
Let my attention see and my captivation seize.