Photo of a street light at night

Evening Street: A Poem

I. 5:12 on a Tuesday. The blaze of another day full of ends, endings. Slant of sun with ember on the horizon and a hushed blue closing in from all corners of the winter sky, which seemed on the verge of bursting into tears or into flame or confession.   
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What happens on Sproul Plaza when it’s empty

Sproul Plaza. Historically a place of inspiring protests and social change. In our everyday lives, a place of aggressive fliering and slow walkers who think it’s genuinely okay to walk six people across. But what happens when there’s no one around on this seemingly ever-buzzing plaza? We at the Clog
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