Pulped

Lyd Havens is a second-year Creative Writing major and History minor originally from Tucson, Arizona. They come from a family of writers, and have often referred to poetry as their “first and last love”. After graduation, Lyd plans to get their MFA and PhD in Creative Writing, hopefully become a professor, and write at least one poetry collection. When they aren’t in class or studying, they’re helping run the Boise Poetry Slam, making playlists for their friends, embroidering, and reading.

Pulped

When an art space looks like a holy space,
it is almost never a coincidence. Emboss
the lace. Ink the cheesecloth. Valley all

the organ’s pipes. Hymn the textiles,
and Easter the paints. I only started
thinking about religion after I learned

how to write. All my prayers start with
amen and circle back around. In the Southwestern
United States, holiness sticks to your clothes

like the sun. Every piece of paper is created
with the intention of one day being burned.
In the Northwestern United States, my hands

are always cold. I find myself looking forward
to warm water from public restroom sinks.
My penmanship is slightly more legible here.

I think about Ernest Hemingway a lot more
often. Unfortunately. But everything attached
to his name here is beautiful. Idaho is such

a specific beast. I call my mother every other night
and tell her about it. Even from a thousand
miles away, she thinks it’s beautiful too.