Features

Green is sage, the leaves on a branch, the sea from far away. 

Green is arsenic, deadly and sharp, insidious till today. 

Green is the color of the veil of light under which two lovers lay.

and Green is the smell of fresh-trimmed grass on a chilly summer’s day. 

Green is the suburban sprawl upon which teenagers constantly roam. 

Green like the shallows of a tropical sea, their gentle tides churning up foam.

Green matcha lattes, a halo, a ring, the urge to return to the loam,

and Green is a jungle full of plastic flamingos, unruly and overgrown.

Green in vibrations, in subwoofer surround sound

a lullaby, while nostalgic, remains new and unbound

Green in emeralds, beryl stones from underground

a gem amongst clods, once drifting, now found

muted notifications, feelings left unsaid

wallowing in cesspools of existential dread

deliberately having messages unread

from a bird teaching Spanish who just wants you dead

ecology, economy, money, and envy

half of a tide pod, Vine, “hi, welcome to chili’s”

movements and motions waiting to be free,

unions, solidarity, from the river to the sea.

Artisanal asparagus, Whole Foods bok choy

XBOXing presents to later enjoy

Tic Tacs on Tiktok, liminal lime Lacroix

Spotify spinach wraps, gluten free, no soy

minecraft cup, headphones

neon hair, two tones

outer space clown show

having a blast? I think so

hazy morning air, fog on the street

markers haphazardly tangled in sheets

Taco Bell soda, shooting the breeze

if anything, I wish being loved came to me with ease

tripping through backstreets, slow-motion dreams

memories upon memories of sipping aquamarine

past, present, future, epilogue, end scene

something holy, something sacred is to be found in Green

Green is hypocritical. Green is contradiction.

but Green is free. Green is permission. 

a feeling, an emotion: lingering and sublime-

Wretched of the Earth, their grief, 9:09.

Green is personal, of days in the past-

of seaweed, sea salt, sand and seagrass.

knowing that our time on this earth will not last;

window panes, broken, turn into seaglass

Luca Chen's poem won second prize in the Annual Humanities & Sciences Undergraduate Writing Contest. Luca is currently a sophomore in BFA Comics, class of 2027. He enjoys spending time with his friends, long walks in the park, and devising devious recipes. Luca also enjoys listening to music from the British alternative pop band Glass Animals, to a “very normal extent.” His words.