Greality by Liz Webb

  1. The September haze rolls in, a cold hold on the valley. Trees twist through cumulous forms, grocery bag braids hang below. The decades contained in a single day sing in one refrain; Greality’s thoughtless Xerox machine is fixed on an endless page. This September day, the same as the next, the same as the last, same, same, Greality.


  1. Factories line the edges of town. The prehumous steaks on the factory line send up sacred smoke of burnt hides, an offering to the agricultural gods. The prehumous butchers are risking THEIR hides; the six memorial markers no longer remind us. “The smell of money, my ass.” When “affordable” housing costs more than the slums, three hots and a cot are a viable solution. Greality gravitates towards the minimum grave.


iii. Dear insurance company,

I’m sorry my street is prime choice for break ins. I’m moving at the end of the year, will the increase stay the same? So sorry I forgot, here’s the eighth address I’ve sent you in six short years. 

Cheerful regards from Greality,



  1. A soupy summer and a wretched winter.


  1. Roast chicken summer and dry ice winter.


  1. Another short summer before the endless winter. 


vii. The Greality is I’d rather die than wear a winter coat for half the year.


viii. The majority of my dreams reside in the recesses of these bars and alley streets. The 7-11 marquis shines on grimy strangers who prophecy to me, whiskey whispers wishing me well, faint eyes fading quickly. They won’t remember, but they are sown deep in my memory. Life’s Grealities are revealed through drunken mutterings, the beauty warped when seen through half a beer.


Biography: My hope and goal as an artist is to share the meaning I find in every day life and explore the “what ifs” in the universe. I’m inspired by the relationship between the individual experience and the collective experience, how they shape each other. While I’ve always loved to write, I never felt satisfied with any of my creative writing pursuits as a teen. I focused on visual art for several years but returned to writing after living several stories of my own and meeting many interesting, unexpected people.

Over the past 7 years I’ve taken art, music, and writing courses at Aims. In that time I’ve grown a lot of appreciation for each individual form of art and the unique ways they allow people to tell stories. I’ve always loved how books have the ability to transport me to another world and I’m excited to explore my art through these avenues. I’m currently focusing on horror fiction, journaling, and various forms of poetry.