Of all the poems I’ve written, only one line remains etched into my brain: “I smell river in the woodwork.” My Loyola classmates and I laughed at that line in workshop. (The river didn’t even flood the city!) Still, I remember the way rotting shotgun houses smell, and they don’t smell like mold. They smell like river in the woodwork.
Larissa Nash grew up in the Everglades and spent many summers in Ohio and Hawaii. She holds a B.A. from Loyola University New Orleans and an M.F.A. from Pacific University. Her hobbies include rain-dancing and soothsaying. Larissa has participated in several of Francesca Lia Block's online workshops, and she is the founding editor of Rose Red Review. Her work has appeared in Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, December Magazine, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and The Toast. She currently lives in Georgia with her cats, one of which is part Florida bobcat.
Song of the Moment: Killer Radio