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Jessica Lee McMillan

Jessica Lee McMillan is a poet and teacher with an MA in English. When not writing, she spends time with her little family, her big dog and buries herself in books and records. 

Jessica's work explores perception, existential concerns, language, the body, pop culture, music, film, social justice, nature, physics and scale.

You can find her work in Pocket Lint, Tiny Spoon, Blank Spaces Magazine, Pinhole Poetry, Riddled with ArrowsAntilangDream Pop Journal, Gap Riot Press, SORTES, Train Poetry Journal, Lover's Eye Press, Red Alder Review and others. 

Jessica is a white settler and first-generation Canadian who lives in New Westminster, British Columbia on stolen and unsurrendered lands of the Coast Salish and Halkomelem-speaking Peoples, in particular, the Kwantlen, QayQayt and Kwikwetlem First Nations.

 

Green Age

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer And I am dumb...

First Light

After Freddie Hubbard first light skims on green wing like sprouts strobing for ray climbs from soils of night, through damask-leafed...

The Meteorite

Our room grew a hole when the sky landed by our heads and, when meteorite met bed of linen taut with our stereotypical tensions, the...

Baby Teeth

Autumn is the season of falling leaves childhood is a season of losing teeth The loss of the first incisors starts at the dissolving of...

Whiplash

The pavement was dry, February grey —enough traction for the drunk to correct his advance left In physio, I took care of the whiplash but...

Reflections on Glass

Free verse How the cerebellum spills over the shiny panes reflecting the sky, the world in freehand sketching transparent refractions of...

The Dark Crystal and the Uncanny

What Henson's psychological universe teaches us Master world-maker Jim Henson defined my childhood with alphabet letters taught by...

Crow and Bridge

Locking eyes with a perched crow is a transference of bird’s-eye-view, the binocular reconciling of separate frames in one image, side...

The Body Is a Blackout Poem

Bandaids are my tales of chaos on playgrounds, the dermal terrain of nicks and scratches donned in battle with objects I collide, a...

Sky Panes

The bridge tower vaults and church spire hangs under the day moon conversing on altitude with steel-boned views bridge cables and cross...

Lemonade Day

When I passed the lemonade stand, I passed my childhood, late August on the sidewalk, next to the church with humble interior walls,...

Forensics

Hands in motion smudge surfaces unforgiving of polish We groove and light life’s glass of shifting images with our living fingerprints...

Accidental Sunflower

Somehow a patch of sunflowers bloomed from the street corner — a concrete wedge of dog waste baggies, trash from the cannabis shop and...

ROYGBIV

Memory is a basement carpeted in orange and brown, electronics warm, vinyl cords in rainbow of 7 colours 7 notes in analog polyphony...

Anatomy of a Funeral

Standard-issue funeral option tombstones are concrete slabs like ashes in a cardboard box, aggregate mixtures of concrete sprawl, a...

Magpie

You can tell I’m a magpie by the pieces I carry: the magpie, a collector, a good-luck bird, full of words, hiding in patterns round...

Learning to Be Receptive

What we can learn from the world’s giant Buddha statues by Jessica Lee McMillan It became an accidental pilgrimage to visit four giant...

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