JESUS CHRIST MADE SEATTLE UNDER PRESSURE It’s like hearing Jesus talk in his sleep, Jefferson unconscious conversing with founding fathers. Uncle James would have loved you. Christ, what would it take to sleep through the night? I cherry-pick the pillows I want, Columbia Tower height nightmares creep in either way. Tonight you made the bed, I don’t ask about Marion or Mandy or whatever her name was. Jefferson speaks to Madison in tongues when you fall asleep. Seattle welcomes me home with open arms. January sun fools the city for spring. Strangers proffer truths passed down from Seneca, a proper prophet. Under covers, under duvet, behind closed curtains, university blues cease to exist in this capacity, a union without a name. I apply pressure to prevent pain, all I’ve ever known is a head-on-a-pike kind of love before this; refuse to pine- leave that to trees.
Hannah Paige Kitchens is attending Columbia College Chicago studying Creative Writing with a concentration in nonfiction. Hannah was a finalist in Seattle’s Youth Poet Laureate competition, had her play performed as a staged reading by Live Girls! Theatre, and has had her poem on a Seattle Metro vehicle through their Poetry on Buses program. Hannah’s day job is at a grocery store where she loves using the cardboard baler and making displays.