This project introduces poetry to wider audiences by presenting poetry in collaboration with design on UWG buses and in other areas—sharing the talents of students in the UWG Creative Writing and Art Programs while making daily commutes more interesting and inspiring. It also allows for creative students to engage in unique collaborative experiences together and widen the perspectives of the UWG community of students, faculty, staff, and visitors.

Illustration of a glass "cocktail" of brown liquid with acorns in it and surrounding

Shooting Squirrels in Grantville (Full Poem)

By Elizabeth Smith, B.S. Mass Communications / Illustrated by Emily Boatright, B.F.A. Art

The whisper of bourbon on Dad’s breath
is sharp and thick, as he hands me the Red Ryder
I had unwrapped that Christmas morning.
The grassy fields and oaks are coated
in a blanket of frost, painted in pinks and yellows
as sunlight begins to peek over the woods.

Aiming for the bundles of nests
crowning the tops of the trees, we take our shots,
twigs shower down
with the occasional thud of a gray furry mass.
They twitch and squirm and furl, like a leaf
set to flame in the roaring bonfires by the lake,
watching ashes lifting into the quilt of stars
with a final breath of wind.

My sister will pluck them up by their tails,
as if picking wildflowers from outside the garden gate.
She and my father will walk side by side back to the house,
laughs echoing into the now silent woods.
but I will linger,
looking into the sky to see if I can see the ashes.

illustration of open oven with smoke coming out, surrounding by flower prints

Fa'apapa's Leap (Full Poem)

By Bradley Cotton, B.A. English / Illustrated by Elyssa Taylor, B.F.A. Art

Mother could never see how my grandmother and I see it
my grandmother held its hand out of the oven
The eruption of the dough separating from each other gripped me by its soft nails
While cushioning my fingerprints apart as I partook in its entirety
It rushed me into a serene frenzy
While coercing my lips to quiver and pulsate with lust
My mother’s closed lips lean toward the floor
Her tongue levitated onto her tonsils by tinamatua’s eyes
The shiny dish reminded me of snow in South Georgia
While it reminded my mother of rain filled wood and stained marigolds.

Through her thorned memories
Rabbits wrongly befriend foxes when pondering over fa’apapa
My mother’s cheek flashed purple and red in her adolescence
Caused by my tinamatua,
But by the hands of fa’apapa.
Vigorous taunts and the absence of embrace
Showered mother as she swifted fa’apapa away from my grasp
With a stare as pungent as the bread’s siren-like aroma.

I would be consumed by the over drizzle of the fa'ausi
While my mother consumed with forced silence
And a burning sensation on her right cheek caused by memory
My grandmother’s eyes welcomed my optimistic crumb filled smile
Mother’s feet quivered while she cornered her words.
If only she knew her past is making fa’apapa troublesome.