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YES, THIS DAY
by Viola Weinberg Yes, walk to the corner Once was, you walked across Countries, down steep steps In secret cities, 'round statues And monuments and goals on A great horizon, more distant Than you can now fathom Yes, walk to the corner It seems so far as I limp along With this contraption, just do it And find your new world around A bend, your track of glory just Yards away, just take the first steps These spurs of bravery will launch you Yes, walk to the corner, astound Yourself and let your rods and screws Ring like bells and bang like hammers On fragile jigging skeletons that lurch A friend dreamt I ran a marathon in Paris Wheeling a chair through the Odeon This is bigger, harder, longer, more Yes, walk to the corner and find Your courage, your new world launches Like a ship they said would sink, lunges Forward, rambling all jabby and stroppy Rise up on the walker, straighten your spine Be proud you have been given this life Valor rushes through you, you will arrive |
GUADALUPE by Stephanie Lakos |
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THE RED CASE
by Katherine Davis It could have been Revlon's cameo: Concealer, pancake, Rouge, lipstick, mirror. Daily making of An actress playing The same stained dress. Soft slanted applicators Bent to hand, a tin full Of Q-tips for fine finishes. The spotlight shines, But it's no sweat. Your red case contains A fox who will snatch You off his back, devour You like sodden grapes— Animal satiety which You get from a drip IV. The case also grips A vial of urine, bloody From chemical toxins, And massage tools To out the stress. Postcards of mt. peaks, It's only fresh snowfall Which abates the nausea. You think of clothes That your mother must take Home if you don't accompany. We love you, the sign says. Forget all else the red case May embrace. The haunting Ball mask of misery. Fold it; The sign will fit, corners, Crevices, a family's wish. Red case lined with black Then gray then pink. |
ELKS TOWER by Christian DeLaO |
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IN PATIENCE
by Holly Day the birds circle the tallest skyscrapers as if knowing each tiny room is filled with dying or dead meat. they dive, make circles around the tops of the black towers as if their very presence will crack the climate-controlled flat glass panes as if their will alone will open the walls and let them in. below, on the empty streets, wild dogs and feral cats pace anxiously back and forth in front of the sealed doorways as if they think the electric sensors will finally give in, let them in, allow one final flicker of electricity enough to open the doors, one cold night enough to crack the thin glass panes just one door has to open for all the animals who once lived with us to know what became of humanity. |
EL DETALLE by Stephanie Lakos |
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CONFETTI PALACE
by A.J. Huffman Seven billion pieces of folded foil fall inside walls made of glass. The effect is enlightening. A perfect emulation of explosion. A moment of victory encapsulated. Shaken, settled. Later to be shelved. |
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