No stained glass, just threadbare carpet and stiff-backed pews. Warbling voices on Easter. Songs with words so familiar, I forget how ugly they sound, how slowly they chip away at what remains of me. Grape juice and chalky pale crackers— a cheap version of blood and body, watered-down salvation. Knees bent at the altar, […]
Savannah Cooper
Savannah Cooper (she/her) is a leftist bisexual agnostic and a slow-ripening disappointment to her Baptist parents. You can almost always find her at home, reading a novel or cuddling with her dogs and cat. A Pushcart Prize nominated poet, her work has been previously published in Parentheses Journal, Midwestern Gothic, Mud Season Review, and multiple other publications.