Category Archives: Maine Authors
Aaron Lockman, “The PSAT is Written By Chimpanzees – If You Don’t Believe Me, Take It Yourself”
I will never pick up a pencil again. That is what I told myself today as I dutifully trudged home from the Preliminary SATs. However, I am probably wrong. I will probably pick up a pencil tomorrow, when my first-block
Aaron Lockman, “The PSAT is Written By Chimpanzees – If You Don’t Believe Me, Take It Yourself”
I will never pick up a pencil again. That is what I told myself today as I dutifully trudged home from the Preliminary SATs. However, I am probably wrong. I will probably pick up a pencil tomorrow, when my first-block
Luke Bray, “Midnight Snack”
The gust in my face bone chilling numbness. The brilliant light from the inside tundra it scorched my eyes. Only to extend my hand into a labyrinth of obstacles I searched for what I required. There is no turning back,
Luke Bray, “Midnight Snack”
The gust in my face bone chilling numbness. The brilliant light from the inside tundra it scorched my eyes. Only to extend my hand into a labyrinth of obstacles I searched for what I required. There is no turning back,
Lindsey Daggett, “I Never Saw Anybody”
I never saw anybody give change to a homeless man. I never saw anybody dance around in the streets, Hoping somebody would join in. I once thought I saw a dog eating a cat. Who would make up such a
Lindsey Daggett, “I Never Saw Anybody”
I never saw anybody give change to a homeless man. I never saw anybody dance around in the streets, Hoping somebody would join in. I once thought I saw a dog eating a cat. Who would make up such a
Tyler Provencher, “The Mind Was Warm and The Heart Was Cold”
The mind was warm and the heart was cold. The house creaked while the wind blew strong, As the heart and the mind battled with right and wrong. The mind was warm with the heat of logic. The heart was
Tyler Provencher, “The Mind Was Warm and The Heart Was Cold”
The mind was warm and the heart was cold. The house creaked while the wind blew strong, As the heart and the mind battled with right and wrong. The mind was warm with the heat of logic. The heart was
Molly Libbey, Untitled
Black bean soup and baking of bread Never erase the troubled thoughts in my head My mother ill, my mother weak Of these fears I will never speak Days go by as I work and cook My passion once, now
Molly Libbey, Untitled
Black bean soup and baking of bread Never erase the troubled thoughts in my head My mother ill, my mother weak Of these fears I will never speak Days go by as I work and cook My passion once, now
Eleanor Dow, When HE Dances
Picture this: a four-year-old boy is at L.L. Bean, picking out a fleece. He runs toward the rack of pink ones and says, “This is the one I want!” At home, he dresses up in his sister’s ballet leotards and
Eleanor Dow, When HE Dances
Picture this: a four-year-old boy is at L.L. Bean, picking out a fleece. He runs toward the rack of pink ones and says, “This is the one I want!” At home, he dresses up in his sister’s ballet leotards and
Andrew Hopkins, Quarter Collecting
I found the final quarter two days ago. It was in my lunch money. I got home and emptied my pockets, tossing my pencils, pens and homework on my desk, and then I took out my guitar picks and change.
Andrew Hopkins, Quarter Collecting
I found the final quarter two days ago. It was in my lunch money. I got home and emptied my pockets, tossing my pencils, pens and homework on my desk, and then I took out my guitar picks and change.
Margot Andreasen, Spaghetti
The slimy worms in my blue bowl are drenched with lava. The hot lava leaks over the top and down the side. Chunks of thick, large, cream colored, shreds fall from above. Rescue planes dive in to grab the survivors.
Margot Andreasen, Spaghetti
The slimy worms in my blue bowl are drenched with lava. The hot lava leaks over the top and down the side. Chunks of thick, large, cream colored, shreds fall from above. Rescue planes dive in to grab the survivors.
Alena Kiel, Verb: To Write
I’m not a writer. I don’t have time to always have my nose in a book. I don’t spend my nights contemplating ways to save the world. I’m not alcoholic, I’m underage. I’m not depressed, I have too much to
Alena Kiel, Verb: To Write
I’m not a writer. I don’t have time to always have my nose in a book. I don’t spend my nights contemplating ways to save the world. I’m not alcoholic, I’m underage. I’m not depressed, I have too much to
Amelia French, Knaves Backstage
The creak of those floorboards the ones we know to dodge by tech week knaves backstage sneaking, searching to chase, run, poke, prod performing an intricate dance till scolded now we sit eyes glued to our scripts obediently searching for
Amelia French, Knaves Backstage
The creak of those floorboards the ones we know to dodge by tech week knaves backstage sneaking, searching to chase, run, poke, prod performing an intricate dance till scolded now we sit eyes glued to our scripts obediently searching for
