By Tiffany Shull Peterson described academically rhythmic, metaphoric, lyrical described artisticallya sunset, birth, justice formed organicallyfree verse, intuition framed intentionallysonnet, haiku, an ode academically, artisticallyorganically, intentionally the poet begets the poembut life begets poetry

Three Lucky Limericks

CW: language By Tiffany Shull Peterson I once wrote a poem about luckBut I found myself feeling stuckThe words they would not flowThe deadline did loom thoughAnd that is why this poem will suck There once was a doggo named LuckWhose owner did not give a fuckIf he ran ‘round the townLifting his leg likeContinue reading “Three Lucky Limericks”

Op-Ed: Birth is not always love at first sight, and that’s OK.

By Tiffany Shull Peterson In broad terms, we’ve all heard that when you become a mother, you are filled with overwhelming, undeniable joy at the arrival of your new baby. To hear it described, it would seem as though a glowing blanket of pure adoration is draped over you and your small family as youContinue reading “Op-Ed: Birth is not always love at first sight, and that’s OK.”

Spooky Season

By Tiffany Shull Peterson Darla loved Halloween. She waited for autumn equinox each year before allowing herself to drag out her seasonal décor. Spurred by excitement, she hauled boxes, bins, and bags from the cellar to the main floor of her 50’s style bungalow. They were meticulously organized and bore labels from ‘bats and spiders’Continue reading “Spooky Season”

The Reflection

By Tiffany Shull Peterson Emla was sweating and shaking as she sat at her mother’s dressing table. Instinctively, Emla’s eyes darted away from the smooth mirrored glass to the open window. Clammy night air kissed goosebumps on her skin and the familiar glow of starlight comforted her. With a roll of her shoulders she straightened,Continue reading “The Reflection”


By Tiffany Shull Peterson cash only shared water bottles and teenage egohe leans in she’s pulled awaypeeling posters drooping dangling swaying a noir fantasy filled with smoke and punkbassbeats coy smiles beneath too-black rimmed eyeslove drunk side stage yearning for a glancesweat and noise and insecurity average talent sings off-key as fists punchtheair boys willContinue reading “cancun”


By Tiffany Shull Peterson She extended her arm, spread her fingers, and examined the flesh there. Her translucent skin glowed with an eerie bluish hue. Purple veins spread like the branches of an ancient tree from the back of her hand up into her arm. She turned her palm up and watched as the musclesContinue reading “Vivid”

The Devil Walks in Devon

By Tiffany Shull Peterson “Mama, I saw the Devil.”  My tired eyes turned from the flickering fire and rested on Eliza’s round, red cheeks pulled flat by a frown. Gentle curls framed her concerned face as she stared back at me. “Another bad dream, love?” My question was met with a defiant deepening of herContinue reading “The Devil Walks in Devon”


By Tiffany Shull-Peterson Drawn in, deeperTo the unknown eyeThoughts unspoken, steep in feelings unacknowledged Dive down, withinTo the dark pools thereWounds packed up, stacked for moving day unscheduled Drown now, beneathToo heavy to swimKeeping secrets on a leash, submerged and quiet