"The snow f e l l like a miffed god took bites of cumulus clouds—spat them down / from heaven, o n t o my Midwest."
Kelsey Ronan’s 'Chevy in the Hole' reimagines the city some of us never knew.
Andy Warhol, the Rust Belt, and me.
"Is disease something we’re born with and prone to, or the result of a life lived in a place that can make anyone sick?”
"this is how i ground myself. / i follow the writing on the wall."
"This city isn’t built on bullets / alone."
"All over McKean County, we claimed the unwanted spaces that adults had left behind."
"In Detroit we are always planting trees."
"Does land have a memory?"
More than twenty-five thousand people lost their homes so a highway could be built in my neighborhood.
A requiem for the small-town "hang-arounds."
Since the early twentieth century, the area has been a safe haven for Latinx—including my family.