Tia Cowger is a graduate of Eastern Illinois University. A poet at heart, her work has been published in Eastern's literary journal The Vehicle, Toe Good, Bloodpuddles, and Gone Lawn.
“Megafauna,” “The bird in my voice is a song,” and “Harvest Moon is a Command”
I read somewhere there’s an
orchid whose flower is shaped
like the female of a long dead
species of bee.
Big, bitter fruits that no-one eats,
drop to the ground and rot
orchid whose flower is shaped
like the female of a long dead
species of bee.
Big, bitter fruits that no-one eats,
drop to the ground and rot
Poetry
Issue 65, September 2022
“Decay”, “Falling Through the Ice” and “Coping Mechanism”
Rose oil, sandalwood
and lavender—poured over
honeycomb piles deep in
rumbling woods. Bare feet
missing twigs, silence heard
but for birds, and low hums of
red earth.
and lavender—poured over
honeycomb piles deep in
rumbling woods. Bare feet
missing twigs, silence heard
but for birds, and low hums of
red earth.
Poetry
Issue 19, November 2018
Tia Cowger
Tia Cowger is a graduate of Eastern Illinois University. A poet at heart, her work has been published in Eastern's literary journal The Vehicle, Toe Good, Bloodpuddles, and Gone Lawn.
“Megafauna,” “The bird in my voice is a song,” and “Harvest Moon is a Command”
I read somewhere there’s an
orchid whose flower is shaped
like the female of a long dead
species of bee.
Big, bitter fruits that no-one eats,
drop to the ground and rot
orchid whose flower is shaped
like the female of a long dead
species of bee.
Big, bitter fruits that no-one eats,
drop to the ground and rot
Poetry
Issue 65, September 2022
“Decay”, “Falling Through the Ice” and “Coping Mechanism”
Rose oil, sandalwood
and lavender—poured over
honeycomb piles deep in
rumbling woods. Bare feet
missing twigs, silence heard
but for birds, and low hums of
red earth.
and lavender—poured over
honeycomb piles deep in
rumbling woods. Bare feet
missing twigs, silence heard
but for birds, and low hums of
red earth.
Poetry
Issue 19, November 2018