someone modded the test-flight simulator
to scrape the sun with their fingernails
or crash out into the creek

behind your old house
tumbling through briar brush
forehead cracked on oak

the suspect steadied over unpaved gravel
hardly graced the ground, flickered
down the street, laid out under the unbuilt warehouse

gazed up.

someone said it’s still 2010 out there
if you just bothered to look—
way out past the vanishing point 

that kid with bangs and tiny glasses
blows warmth into their fingers
boots up the family PC

Stephanie Anderson (she/they) is a library worker, union organizer, and mass of overgrown dead ends in Baltimore, MD. Her first microchap of poetry and collage, SOMEONE ELSE’S FEELINGS (2025), was published in Ghost City Press’s 2025 Summer Series. More of her work is found in Libre, fifth wheel press, JAKE, Genrepunk, and elsewhere. She’s @whoastanderson everywhere that matters, but she desperately wants you to sign her guestbook at whoastanderson.com.