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Plastic Sandcastle
Hunter Bordwell-Gray

If you could trace the outline of a mirage,
there Las Vegas would be.
An approximate paradise served on the rocks.
All magic, no tricks.
No substance, just sin.
Sin is just the luster of a land with no tomorrow.
Where sorrows drown like flies
in a pesticide of gin and rum.
You can barely hear those sirens
past the siren song of vice,
only to covet life like diamonds
from the stomach of an ambulance.
Hunter Bordwell-Gray

I am a lifelong Portland resident and a first-year Creative Writing/Poetry student at PCC. I started my journey in elementary school, intricately crafting my first novel on a rundown laptop…as far as a 10 year old could stay entertained before chasing the next shiny idea. Since then, I have delved into the realms of poetry, tabletop campaign writing, and multimedia production. For me, writing is the only medium that allows me to clearly convey my ideas and experiences to other people where otherwise I sometimes struggle to express myself. I take much of my inspiration from a hodgepodge of nature, analog horror podcasts, and the roulette wheel that is my taste in music.

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