TR Brady

soon / swoon

half mourning against my familial quilt my favorite
blue square line drawn flowerets three rows from the foot
the bed throws of clammy March my second Midwest spring
I spend coveting dopamine & rife w blue I levitate
for to reach things I cannot keep my image my ex
doubles as my roommate says I’ve been posting thirst
traps I turn pixel pet I’ve been dreaming to right
what predicament pleasure could torque in upswing
pierce my nostril kill a succulent how I miss
my sweet sweet fugue


the actor of my mind confuses opera for swing time switch of wicked causation
I sick put your songs in me this morning
a chimera desperate for greening spaces I collect
aesthetic screensavers of cabins in the fog tea lights millennial pink sweaters
nipple piercings I do want to don but fear the fraught exhibition
subsequent stick and tug of new hollows I cannot say I’ve built a nest
but recognize the floorplan somewhere excitable my gambit
in the urge to noise imagined as music

can last for a few weeks, even months

coming down from a manic episode the burn of winter wind picking up my snowbrush
I attempt reach but fragile the point of connection
not extension however the desire to you I try to keep
the good vigil but tire in the loss the urge to find but what
scent in this snowfield what signifier in this sight my accident
is not knowing how much urgency to apply to my risk my tone
my tick I hear you in every sleet a silence magnified tumult

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TR Brady is a recent graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Tin House Online, Copper Nickel, The Adroit Journal, Denver Quarterly, Colorado Review, and Bennington Review. Find more of her work at