Tuesday May 30

Erickson-Poetry J Divina Erickson is a 27-year-old poet living in the Bay Area. You can find some of her work in Three Line Poetry, Chinquapin, Pulp--,as well as other publications. She often spends her spare time hiking along the sky lines or in bed with her cats and a cup of hot chocolate.


Ugly Origami


I folded flowers out of colored paper and scattered them across your bedspread 
like stars. Later that night, I sneaked in and saw you staring out your window 
overlooking the ghetto, tearing off the petals.


I press my crevice against your edge and fold myself around your waist. My 
wrists tuck into the knots of your spine and when we flex we form an owl.


I tried to be an open book, but I was so boring you closed me. I tore out my pages, 
folded them into ships and sunk them in my bathtub. The water changed from 
clear to brown to brackish. With my last page I folded a paper-cup and used it 
to wash the cuts in my mouth.


Water laps against the edge of the sandcastle, climbs the southern wall. A 
stickman in a paper hat looks down at it from the cut, rooting himself, ready for 


I fold a dream-catcher and put it above your bed. Its blues and greens make 
water-like waves. For the next five nights you have nightmares, heavy with 
rainstorms and mass flooding. I tell you they are psychological but you crumple it 
in your fist, burn it in the fireplace.