5:00 pm—somewhere. Defendant’s hands. strangled blue. blue— cornflowers pressed— thumb, forefinger—splintered. it’s always smelling cold on the train. wet denim smears. headlights drag themselves open. trees blur breathless out the window. & everything made of cornflower; will breathe one day.

The sirens might not sound, the call might not go through. You could be in your worst moment  and no one’s coming for you.

To all the kids out there know that it's okay  Ya’ll got people like me to show you the better way  All you can do is hope and pray for a toy on Christmas day   Don’t worry it's alright  I’m riding this poetry wave like a bike 

Penn Libraries Civic Engagement Curator Samantha Hill recently hosted young activists from the organization #VoteThatJawn at the Kislak Center, where they responded to historical materials through the lens of poetry.