father i bring
the rain in
san francisco is all hands
holds herself in my back
pockets a corner store filled
with ginger ale and gods
rowing paddle boats
legs spinning a standstill
begging you to drink
up missing dry land
but you find their gait
a little funny so you blow
out a mist a sea of sorried
fiberglass and chocolate
set the timer for twenty
minutes to see if anyone
is drowning
Hillary Martin attends California College of the Arts where she is nurturing her love for Poetry. Within her poetry, she explores a life lived in a Southern Baptist household while also identifying as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community. Previous work can be seen in Glass Poetry, Feminine Collective, and FIVE:2:ONE. When Hillary is not writing, she enjoys long walks to Trader Joes and the city at sunrise.
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