We Live Here: New London

We Live Here New London, an exhibition on housing past, present, and future. 
September 24 – December 18, 2026
The Garde Gallery
305 State Street, New London, CT

This Barren City From the Ocean, I Walk Its Shore
Ellis Iurilli-Hough
Connecticut College, class of 2027

Here against the sea is where we gather, unopposed by wind or rain
Why we’re here is not the question but the answer, as to what it is that tied us to it
Goliaths try to keep us pushed against the current, that is what they do
But here we meet as one, if not for us, then for those that follow in our footsteps to see the shore.

This land was called Nameaug, though many have forgotten
Prosperity fueled by beasts of the deep kept the candles burning while voices older were replaced
“Great men” fought to keep this slice of freedom safe from those who wished to take its name
Many look across the river still aching to see the victor’s spoils taken from their place.

Walking down the road on any given day, you will find many friends from down below
Those who keep their face in spite of the cold front that sees them not as one
But this town is home to all—a microcosm of freedom our leaders preach
Protected by the blue who sail the murky waters looking for the end of it all.

This river provides for not only us but to those who need it most
Birds, fish, bees, and deer feed the current with their natural inclinations
Farther North one finds the plains, the hills rolling with abundant forests and fertile soil
A reminder of what is to be shared around the table between us all.

Look to the Sound, they say, but what you’re seeking has been here all along
In the stone walls of this quad, the mossy cracks in the path leading home
In the sails of a ship, an Eagle soaring into its bay where it rests for the night
In the bottom of a bowl of rice, one shared by memories of a familiar corner store.

Walk along this beach, this trail, or path to rest with me and watch the storm
Brewing on the horizon, lingering, watching, waiting for its day to come
Perhaps I am a fugitive, taken away from my roots planted long ago
For in this tree, whose branches I climb, I have found an ephemeral home.

Still, I find myself drawn to it, searching for what will forever elude me
I do not wish to to find it, though the waterline brings us nearer to the ends of the Earth
This place is hollow, barren from the brutal clatter of the eye that has dealt its blow
Rebuilt from dust and sand, this village still outstretched its empty hands to those that wish to heal its soul.

Poem read at Housing + Community: We Live Here Block Party, May 3, 2026.