Laura Miller
'21
I think poetry is the art form that can get us the closest to what we really mean to say. In the words of Rilke, 'most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small, transitory life.
Laura Miller is from Newtown, PA. She studies Creative Writing at UArts with a concentration in poetry. In her free time, she reads, writes, bikes around the city, and on special occasions, escapes to any random mountain she can find on a map. Currently working on her senior thesis project, Laura is interested in landscapes and cityscapes, and the way that humans connect or disconnect with the environment in an attempt to process their experiences. Her work can be found in Scoundrel Time magazine and UArts’ Underground Pool.
"Sonnet for the sleeping" by Laura Miller
The same about a three-armed bench
is true for a supermarket;
true for little concrete pyramids
beneath an overpass,
cornfields that bear no crops,
highschoolers dressed
for Halloween – painted by smoke
and incense, begging you
through damp hay and wood-smell
to grab somebody’s leg.
The whole contraption falls
every time I try to close the blinds;
In the morning, I am in a whole city
of second-story windows that face the sun.
"Sonnet for the end" by Laura Miller
When trolley cars are made to float
between skyscrapers and over farmland,
and all the little people underneath
have grown immune to every disease;
this is how it will be when I go–
Wrapped in my white banner
like a table for a banquet,
in a room composed of one flat wall,
the bears will come and rip the roots
from all the gardens south of the subway line–
when every old neighborhood becomes the sea,
when we face the white lights
and all the little people are stronger than ants;
this is when we really both will forget.