Katherine Hessler

Amongst the cadre of the filth drain
I trust that Marquez understood time
as a ring of water. The broken potatoes
in chemical soup. The sea which boils to
kill the fruit flies of corporate
trashcans. Black specks flying
off black monoliths
like periods
off a page.

The hose spits out hot spells
The hose spits out hot spells+knits a patchwork of broken blood
into noise the manhole cascade
The hose spits out hot spells+music if eyes did not betray the instrument.
Scrub away the stick for others
The hose spits out hot spells+until its rose colored water until its white
water skidding across the cement.
The hose spits out hot spells+The skip of sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice
sharpens my will against myself
The hose spits out hot spells+for children in time somewhere.

My Father throws the image of a cow fetus
into the closet of his sixteen year old bedroom,
and slams that door in his mind. He cracks open
the iron doors of the slaughterhouse.
Outside sunlight lords over sky
the crayon countryside,
the birds rhapsodes
in the trees.

Katherine Hessler is a rising Junior studying English and Global Health. In addition to writing she spends her time running for the woman’s cross country team (Go ‘Cats), and working at the Foster-Walker package center. She loves talking poetry, so if you’re interested hit her up at katherinehessler2024@u.northwestern.edu.