Prose
What Looms Ahead in 2026. Content Warning.
What Looms Ahead in 2026 A Threshold Walked with Fragile Bones and Fierce Clarity New Year’s Eve 2025 is on the way to 2026. Whatever looms ahead is for the future to reveal, and we will meet it through dreams, brainstorming, and creating. We keep creating and sending messages of truth.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
Held, Then Released. AI-Generated.
Mara didn’t realize how tired she was until she stopped moving. She stood at the top of the ladder, paint roller heavy in her hand, staring at the unfinished stretch of siding in front of her. The color was meant to be calming, something between blue and gray, but up close it felt uncertain, like it hadn’t decided what it wanted to be yet. The sun pressed warm against the house, and for the first time all day, Mara felt the weight of everything she’d been carrying settle into her chest.
By Jhon smith10 months ago in Poets
Rainbow Reflections
Artist Statement: The Spectrum of Us "Rainbow Reflections" is more than a song; it is a sonic and visual reclamation of the space between the binaries. In a world that often demands we choose a single "lane" or a "brittle script" of either/or, this project celebrates the "mixed genre" reality of the human soul.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
The Space We Share.
To those who had to grow up too fast, I am still a child. I will live your childhood for you. I should be grown up just like you are, but that little kid inside of me won’t let me. So I walk with her along the path to my childhood home. We play hopscotch and toss stones. I hold the hand of the kid you never got to be, and you play with us—both versions of me. The version that lives on in a house I no longer dwell in, and the current version of me who just can’t keep going.
By April Kirby.10 months ago in Poets
YELLOW-PINK VOLTAGE
I am arriving here with a quiet mind and an open heart, letting the day unfold without rushing. This entry is part reflection, part creation, part pulse a small moment to breathe and reconnect. Trusselli Art dedicates this piece of the archive to freedom lovers, & lovers of peace, democracy & equality.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
William Westerfeldt House
Western czarina, she is a gothic embodiment of smoke and brass. Her jungle-cat perfume saunters passed in woven gossamer. She’ll put it plainly, as she only can, how she once swam with snow-white saxophones, lap steels, and baby grands, lamenting how her phonographs have since ceased to sing after so many years of breathing in the brine of bay air. Each night is a crushed red spectacle beside the words carved by Anger into the staircase of her spine. She’d abide the elephant in her parlor-room, his aloof squeeze and the rotgut things they'd got up to. On her lacquered breast, they performed their wanton rites to The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test and Grateful Dead. Ibex and the Bearcat clung to the waist of her vestibule, while Leopard spread with all the flare of Victorian taxidermy across her belly. She’s long been swindled of sleep behind the back-lit fuchsia of Alamo Square, while dervish stars whirl slovenly above and divvy up the cosmic minutia: stardust, sex, and music.
By Sean Balogh10 months ago in Poets
“Jolly Jamming Holiday Despite the Blues”
The Ghost in the Café "As an independent journalist and poet, I’ve always believed that the most honest art lives in the space between the polished and the real. 'Jolly in My Own Way' was not born from a holiday card; it was born in my living room with a 12-bar blues riff, a white electric guitar, and the literal 'tweets' of my parakeet, Sweetie.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 10 months ago in Poets
