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Summer 2020 Archive

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Fiction
Hybrid
Non-Fiction
Poetry
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Poetry

Cracker--
By Durell Thompson

My son has earthquakes in his
Heels. When he moves about the 
apartment, he stomps so hard that the 
Neighbor downstairs takes cover.

My Son with earthquakes in his
Toes, is 20 pounds--he
Is, according to the pediatrician
“Short and underweight”. 

My son with earthquakes in 
His feet love to eat crackers--
when he tells us that he wants a 
cracker. The word
Cracker… creams and splits from
His mouth like warning sirens. 
Immediately after the floor shakes:

he runs to the cabinet
And Bangs on the door
Until we comply: 
I want to rename
his plate tectonics jr--
his mom disapproves. 

My son  has earthquakes
In his soles--
The earthquake
Makes him a prime
Target for scrutiny--

For example, the neighbor
downstairs would
Beat on the floor anytime
My son ran to the cabinet. 
I told him, before he hung up in my face,
 you can’t stop
An earthquake
So enjoy the ride--

​
Penumbra @ Stan State
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