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E. M. Foster

Emma FOSTER     E. M. Foster (Emma) is a writer, poet, and graduate student at the University of Cambridge. Her work has been featured in Aurora Journal, 50 Word Stories, Sledgehammer Lit, and more. Her chapbooks can also be found at Origami Poems (2021), Yavanika Press (2022), and Ghost City Press (2023). You can find her portfolio and blog at fosteryourwriting.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 ►   E. M.'s microchaps are available below. Download the single-page PDF by clicking the title & saving to your pc. Set your printer for 'landscape' printing. Folding instructions are under the Who We Are menu tab.

 

Origami Microchap with Selected Poems

Hallways

 

 

 Click title to download PDF microchap

 EM Foster BioCVR Hallways 2023

 

Cover photo by author

Perimeter

Mundane slog,
September chill
Equals
Philosophic craving
(Eraser markings + whiteboard squawk)


Recluse charm,
Counterculture
Equals
Irrational asylum dwellers
(Heaving our souls behind us)


Slump, exile,
Braindead ideas
Equals
The small things we enjoy.

 

Roots

Spirit runs to body
As we finally escape.
Kiss the dirt.
Born in a flowering world
And returning to our spirits
When the bell rings.
Sentient beads of musing dew,
With graphs drawn on, all mouths.
Kindle the elements,
The unspoken word primordial.
Eternal ecstasy of flight loops up,
And we are baked to motherly perfection.

Area

Business ballet and
Raincloud anathema
Equals
Totally done/nostalgia factor
(Sordid cafeteria banter golden youth)

Cardboard gravesites and
Decibel laughter
Equals
Memento mori/do you think you can stop me?
(Lottery ticket mirrors)

Splice, like a lemon
Under a hot butcher knife
Spewing forecasts of mania
Equals
Heaven dwelling in our minds.

 

E. M. Foster © 2023

Isosceles Triangles

 

Click title to download PDF microchap

  

Emma Foster Bio CVR Isosceles Triangles 2021 OctNov

Cover design by Jan Keough 

 

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Scalene

I am tilted,
Arrayed at the end
Of distended queues of logic.
When walking, lightly tread
These gossamer threads
And these splintering fragments
Of my once concrete soul.
Be aware of me, my foundation,
I have no equal,
I am no one’s equal.

 

She Who Needs a Geometry Tutor

Lissome
Doodling
In place of
Equations.
Cyphers
Desecrated,
Purgatory
Whiteboards.
Woe to
Ginger marking
After she
Cried for help.

Null

White walls—tap, tap.
Be soft, be soft.
You found me, the talisman,
The embodiment of
Souls drained to dregs.
Everything and nothing.
In the chaos you found my rest
From the catalogue
Of terminologies you were given.

 

Proven Postulate

Corpse of the wind,
Drifting forward,
A harbinger instilled
In the frontal lobe.

 

Ode to Edwin A. Abbott

Hark, his obituary
Comes with a clerical error,
His coroner
Noted polygons
Etched in his fingertips.
Effervescent facts
Expunged of felicity
When they come to a Point.
And she read his words
Without understanding them,
Trapped in a bungalow
Of unconscious misdemeanors.
She won the Fields
After hearing his prophecy.

 

   Edwin A. Abbott, English schoolmaster &
theologian, is best known as the author of
the mathematical satire Flatland (1884).

 

Solve

My walls are straightening,
My foundation firm.
Holy abstract shape
Filled with dulcet
Elixirs of understanding.
These petals are steel.
Now I am Isosceles.

 

Isosceles: of a triangle) having two sides
of equal length.

Emma Foster © 2021