Poetry
Articles and Prose
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Stacking Wood
This piece was originally written as part of a larger poetry and prose project that explored the author’s relationship with his family’s farm in Tennessee.…
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Boom: Fossil Fuel Collisions
Fracking | Accident The driver of the frackwater truck swerved because there was a little girl walking along the highway. She was walking eastward early that morning,…
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Beyond the Landfill
Every day, roughly 8,000 tonnes of rubbish are collected from the capital city of Jakarta before ending up at Bantar Gebang, the largest landfill in Southeast Asia. Just two decades ago, the area was covered with paddy fields before it…
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Sailboats, Submarines, and the Sea
The first thing I did during my tryout for the sailing team was crash straight into the seawall. Everyone at the Naval Academy is required to…
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Rehabbing Rain
In the Shade of the Cottonwood Tree I was born and raised in the desert. Like most desert plants and animals, I love rain. I…
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2020 Print Edition
COLLISION EDITOR’S LETTER Trevor Dolan and Karam Sheban Thanks to extensive human meddling, the planet is coming apart at the seams. It often feels like…
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Reformist // Revolutionary – Not a Dichotomy: A Reflection on Organizing Strategies in the WesPac Movement in Pittsburg, CA
Introduction I quickly walk over to the building that houses Greg’s insurance agency, as well as other suites – I am running late. The downtown…
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Poisoned Land, Poisoned Bodies
Angelina stood on the solid, familiar earth and looked up. The cliff extended high into the sky, until the sun broke just over its edge.…
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Ten Sleep
For an audio version, here is Jesse reading the piece on his Yonder Lies Podcast. On a hot day in the summer of 2018, I woke up to red…
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No More Eternity in an Hour: Gardening, Time and the Climate Crisis
The dandelion’s rival grows tall, an iceberg in the border; its taproot matches the height of its spike of purple flower, each petal a new…
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Red Soil, Green Gold, Dark Secrets
he bones of deceased Guaraní shamans used to decorate forest pockets in pre-colonial times, when Mata Atlântica, “The Atlantic Forest,” still stretched out its arms…