middle school book report: The Grapes of Rath by Jon Stineback by Trevor Johnston-Piper // Pat Morris
This 4th grade book report is supposed to be at least 500 words. I couldn’t right only 500 words about the Grapes of Rath if I tried!! That's how good this book is Mrs. Weinburger. Mrs. Delores Susan Weinburger. Are you ready? Here we go!
Sneglen // Brian McNely
The saddle of the purple loaner bike squeaks when I pedal, and the wicker basket hangs from the handlebars with zip ties—if I turn too quickly, it slides around and attacks my knees. It’s a 20-minute ride to Kastrup Søbad from the AirBnB in Christianshavn.
Pavlova // The Poet Mj
For the meringue of my early life:
4 large free-range egg whites (There were five free-range eggs in the nucleus recipe; the younger atom I.)
Sign Off // Ellie Snyder
While out at Bullman’s Pizza with Ty and Caroline
to celebrate the job offer my mother watched
her most recent ex-husband arrive with a woman
The Coast (A Diary Entry) // Cole Forrest
miss the lake back home
so I drove to the ocean
mussels always taste like the waters they’re from
Roxy’s Heaven // Cole Weiss
They have boarded up the place, emptied out the popcorn machines, and the carpet stinks of butter and mud as it is torn from the flooring.
What’s Human // Thomas Higgins
When a cat comes to lay at your feet
you never ask why, but you do
hold still for as long as you possibly can
Metropolitan Thoughts // Tor Rose
I show up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in a MoMa hat. “Oh fuck,” I text my friend. “And?” she replies. This is only embarrassing in a self-imposed, insular way. No one actually cares.
I’ve an Idea Where to Put the Babies // Adam Peterson
It’s a very comprehensive plan, so I want you to listen carefully when I tell you what I think should be done with all the babies—
Step one—we put the babies on an island.
If a Plant Dreams // Zixiang Zhang
the ground
into being, what does that say about farming?
Her Cherry Aftertaste // Danielle Roberson
I am made of the ocean, but it is not made of me. I know this because it refuses to mix with my body, its many micro-organisms keeping me firmly on the surface.
For the Student Who Told Me Their Grandmother Died… Twice // Ezra Fox
They tell you grief comes with permissions,
a hall pass, an extension, a moment's reprieve.
The Digital Snail that Lives Inside My Head // Michael Neuwirth
The digital Snail that lives in my head has been trying to reach me about my car’s extended warranty
Deliberate Displays of Unease // Hallie Fogarty
I’m trying to get into a life of hedonism
but I honestly skew more towards prude.
But the Cyborg Pleads, Not Asks, This Time // Claire Lancaster
I cut my knuckles on wood and stone and stone and wood, but only to find oil in lieu of blood.
terrible pitch: Bone-In Hot Dogs // Seth Allen
Close your eyes: imagine you are hosting the perfect barbecue. Feel the warm sun, now the cool breeze. Everyone is here, it’s the perfect blend of friends, enemies, and potential lovers.
B & B // Kathryn Reese
I find him in the kitchen making sandwiches, as men do, not with marmalade but with mandarins.