Vertical Art List
Emily Iannazzo
Created on October 8, 2024
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Transcript
The Evolution of “Oddities and Entities"
First poem of collection is written
"Spindleweb"
Aug. 22, 2023
July 1, 2023
Joined a writers' group called Ellipsis that helped improve her writing
"Petrichor"
Final Poem of Collection is Written
"After Party"
Aug. 23, 2024
spindleweb.sometimes I wonderif I am made in my entiretyof spidersdo I feel themitching scratching crawlingmanoeuvring their bulging abdomens under my skinweaving knitting crochetingtheir gossamer websinto every crevice of my innardsuntil I am devouredam I just a simple silken puppetdriven by creeping arachnidsmanipulating simulating emulatingthoughts into the coddled swaddled fly that is my mindeach organ a swelling egg sacpreparing to bloom and burstbut if I were made in my entiretyof spidersI wouldn’t wonder if I was.or perhaps I would.perhaps that’s what they want.
petrichor.there’s an afternoon I rememberbetter than most, more fondlyI was far away from homeand it was raining in the summerso the air and the grass were mildewyand smelled so strong of petrichorso I stepped out the door of my brick-and-stone dormshoulder to shoulder with a wonderful girland we walked side by sidein the pouring rain, surrounded by buildingsclimbing with ivy and older than the dustthat blew in the wind and mingled with the raina baggy knit sweater cuddled my bodysoaking in the fallen drops and hugging closerto my breathing flesh, and I hugged backand twirled in the downpour, letting out every laugh I could get away with, and when I went backinside, my sweater teemed with a familiar, beautiful scentthere’s an afternoon I rememberbetter than most, more fondlyI was far away from homeand it was raining in the summerso the air and the grass were mildewyand smelled so strong of petrichor.
after party.“what is it like after all the party guests go home?”the room feels so big and empty now they’re goneand I pick at the trash holding each of their fingerprintsplacing it in the sad plastic bag sweeping the floor alongside mewhat is it like after all the party guests go home?it’s like waking up from a beautiful, exciting dreamstill clinging to the haze of sleepit’s like the daze of mind after a long, soothing cryreeling from the catharsis and the weight of my tearsit’s like finishing a book and staying in the worldthe creator so lovingly built for mewhen all the party guests go home, it’s just me and my bagand the memories of a night long livedand the hope that my guests enjoyed my partyjust as much as I enjoyed themthank you for coming to my party.thank you for singing my song.thank you for hearing my stories.and thank you for playing along.t