Harper Lewis
Bio
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston
Stories (296)
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Rocks Rock
I’ve been thinking about rocks a lot lately, collecting different specimens of minerals and gems, arranging them in groups. I have favorites: lapis lazuli, moss agate, amethyst, bloodstone, and aquamarine to name a few. Like most English majors, I took the least mathy lab science sequence available to me—geology.
By Harper Lewisabout a month ago in Writers
Miasma
Jealousy slinks around deserted corners, Slithering through alleys, dropping poisonous pearls of verdigris to sink below the surface and take root, tiny snakes of jade twisting their minute serpentine bodies into every thought sifting through uncomplicated minds,
By Harper Lewisabout a month ago in Poets
Company’s Coming
“That witch come up right outta that creek there. I seen it with my own eyes. It like to spooked me something fierce, the way she come walking up that riverbank, with fog slipping off her shoulders all slow-like. She had weird eyes, not even a color exactly. They just looked straight through me on up the path, like I wasn’t there atall.” Braxton Hicks hooked his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and elbowed Jim in the ribs. “God’s honest truth.”
By Harper Lewisabout a month ago in Fiction
Boxes
Lila had been sending the boxes for nearly a decade without ever escalating her attack on Shari. She began over the holidays the year everything blew up, after starting a rumor that she would be present when Sharon performed with her brother’s band on Black Friday. Lila was home for Thanksgiving with her mother, and she floated the rumor that she was going to the bar where they were playing. By the time Sharon took the stage with the Shane Veranda band, Lila was in her recliner in North Carolina, visualizing Sharon’s eyes darting to the door, imagining what she and her army of plastics said they would do “if that bitch Lila dares to show her face.” Lila sipped her bourbon, looked at her husband over the top of her glasses, and said, “My absence is a presence.”
By Harper Lewisabout a month ago in Fiction
Perfect Pot Roast
Everyone says they love pot roast, but most people don’t now how to make a good one. I’m here to help with that. This isn’t technically a recipe, so I’m not giving you a list of ingredients or utensils. If you don’t have a fire pit, you’ll need to visit someone who does to make a proper pot roast.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Feast
Not Buying It
https://shopping-feedback.today/art/i-have-been-accused Oh, dear I just can’t–an ABABCDCDC Pollyanna acrostic poem. For me, this is the antithesis of poetry–justa bunch of bright, sentimental, intrusively rhyming kitsch. It sounds like the speaker has never known any real tragedy, and if this is all she (or he) has to deal with in life, this Pollyanna attitude is understandable, but if this is an adult who has experienced real heartache, real betrayal, or real anger, I just can’t buy into this absurdity. Where are the potholes, the mower that won't start, the empty toilet paper roll, the jeans that don't fit. While there's (allegedly) nothing wrong with optimism, this level of it from an adult frightens me.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Critique
