Hey there i'm posting the city paper's annual poetry winners
By John Mazur
now that we have television.
we won't have to talk anymore
Were we ever to begin quenching
Our thirst for spirit, released from
The echoic trip of relentless tomorrows.
Abducted by the unstressed highballers,
Kneeling in green leafies...
Our apathy would be cauterized. Still
Eyeworms bleed from catatonia's
Only capsized shelter dwelling.
A pagoda inflamed with the
Accouterments du jour:
Bellyphones, buisness loafers, outfits
To outwit the nattiest; and we are to
Traverse another scorched soulscape
With watery hearts.
By Hastings Hensel
"The eye is burning, forms are burning, eye-consciousness is burning"- The Buddha
"Some say in ice." -Frost
Everything is burning; the ends of our cigarettes,
the charcoal-colored robins, the freckled sunlight
splotched and split like eggshell on the lawn.
Burning: the flamed hush of western pinks,
voices like wildfires in the city's under-story-
lawn mowers, buzz saws, cars at the far edge
of the ear's periphery. Burning: the top halves
of other houses, fenced in for the eye, the birch shadows like twisting runes, the burning glow
of Bradford pears sparked early like suburban stars.
Or melting: the ice cubes in our drink like stars,
the shade by the clothesline, the heel-print moon
in the sand-colored sky. Melting: box fan clicking
in the window, sentence of cloud, the cold ring
on the cocktail napkin. Melting: sky of stillness,
birdsong, dog-bark, ceaseless thrum of traffic.
O and i found the comedian that Emma reminded me of. So this is his song "superheroes."