Begin a Collaboration or Request

"In my neck / holding / this asphalt / terror / is a star / Line."

This heavy circle of words dangling there in the middle of the poem, not waiting for permission from the reader but inviting them as a witness—I love the way this poem's format and structure give way to a body of words that embody a road. A sky. Liberation. Pain. As a reader the ending is flashing-neon and true:

"America / When service is a station, pump the brake."

Words from 49th Parallel Award Judge, Anastacia-Reneé, on “Lit Ways.” first place

Collage base is a photograph from Rose Blouin’s "To Washington Park, With Love.” Haymarket Books

I found this boy grilling in the park, also dreaming of blue and magenta Floyd memories, as the moon rose through its permutations.
Maybe a thought, out in the landscape, "There's a (ti)me for."