• s t a f f • Editor: William Entrekin Assistant Editor: Joseph M. White Editorial Staff: Anna Buontempo Steven Llanes Cole Mankin Patrick Mulcahy Penny Sehas Cheryl Smith Faculty Moderator: Professor Katheryn White-Davis Layout Design: William Entrekin

All works contained herein are © their respective authors. All photographs © Complete Reference Library except page 34 Patrick Mulcahy page 39 Houston, 1986; by Bruce Burnbaum page 40 by Steve and Carol Shelden page 46 Mary McDermott page 59 Joseph M. White page 60 Joseph M. White page 61 Joseph M. White Page 62 Joseph M. White This Page: Child Neglect, by Steven Llanes Cover: Faithful Care, by Steven Llanes

Typeset is Classical Garmand BT T a b 1 e 0 f C 0 n t e n t s . Brian Beldowicz 1 Michael W. Betts 3 Marc Buttacavoli 5 Jay Coletta 6 Danielle D'Adamo 7 Jeffrey Enright 7 William Entrekin 8 Brenda Escobar 15 Kelly Gallagher 16 Jaclyn J accodine 18 Matthew Klarmann 20 Ryan Livingston 25 Cole Mankin 26 Patrick Mulcahy 27 Edith Nowak 38 Della Reed 38 Delicia Reynolds 39 Kelly Rivetti 43 Ma. Katrina Sabater 44 Penny Sehas 47 Shannon Sullivan 51 David Tango 52 Joseph M. White 55 The Pavan would like to take a moment to say thank you to the following people:

Professor Katheryn White-Davis For sticking by us through a lot of rough times. This issue owes much of its existence to you. Thank you for not walking away when a lot of people would have understood if you wanted to. Tim O'Neill For helping us out when we needed it, and breaking our ties with ... your involvement was both enjoyed and appreciated.

Me Because I'm just cool.

Joseph White, Cole Mankin, and Patrick Mulcahy It is a shame that your time with us has been so short in the great scheme of things. Your presence will be sorely missed, and surely apparent, with the coming of the next issue. Good luck to you in all of your future endeavours.

All who contributed Obviously we couldn't have done it without you.

Barbara Melchione Because you're you, and just cool for that reason, and for being nice to us writer-types (at least if we tutor for you).

God Well, you don't need an explanation, do you? Omniscient, omnipotent being that you are, you know why we're thanking you. 1

Brian Beldowicz Again

It's morning again and the alarm forgot to sound. Before my eyes are even open I can feel your presence beside me. I open my eyes I look up to grey skies, And in my heart and in my bed I feel alone again. And I'm right again.

Your smile not seen, Your breath not tasted, Your laughter not heard, Where are you? Where am I?

The days drag on as the years fly by And the horizon hides the thing I insist on feeling. As I set my day in motion, I feel no such emotion, And where we used to be I stand alone again. Where's the damn phone again?

I need to hear that voice I dial the number of my choice And you're not there again. But she is. 2 My Reality and Eat It Too

Scrolled in red in a sugar coated shell, Harsh reality put in good taste. Thoughts of future know not me now, And if I were lucky, numb-ers would do so. A prediction the size of a finger, Difficult to decipher humor from wisdom, (if one can). Easily lost and neglected; easily kept and saved. What pants was it in? What did it say? I guess I could just buy more rice, But what if that last one was right?

B r 1 a n Beldow1cz Spark I wreak of being without you, Each breath the air's pollution. Clinging to my clothes the scent So many others bear Each and every hour of their life.

My hands to hide my face and tears Smell of sour staleness And the moisture of my eye is swept Away by a cloud I made No more tears to be seen Too many to be felt.

The misery I feel, though, Is the comfort so many seek. But nothing they could spark Could set them so ablaze As you rolled in my arms. 3

Michael w. B. e t t s

G 0 a I s

Always striving for the top. Striving and striving until we stop. Stopping because we reach our goal reaching it to strengthen our soul. But soon another is put in its place. Trying to reach it we set a new pace. Finally reaching the top, we don't want to stop.

T u r t 1 e Slow and mellow strutting down the street keeping to himself protected from the world protected from reality hiding under his shell He will reach his destination ignoring all those seeking attention. My Friend Keep thinking Open your mind Understand your thoughts Go ahead, feel strange You are strange Strange to the common man But I'm happy Ecstatic for you Now we can talk Yes, another person to talk to. 4

M u s 1 C Allows you to exit the world Sit back and let it take control Candy for your ears Doors for your mind All your thoughts come out for you to find Poetry for your ears Peace for your mind Feel what you want from behind Breaks down the wall And people get together The air is saturated with feeling Six minutes last forever.

Michael w B e t t s Freedom

Freedom Peace my friends I'm leaving you forever All you'll have Are memories to dwell upon You seem like you care You're putting on a good show Wait until tomorrow You'll soon forget me. 5

Marc Buttacavoli Heavenly Journey

I take a breath and then drop in One quick prayer, to abolish all sin. Because it's the biggest one I have ever ridden. And looking up the sun is hidden By the aqueous wall that has been erected. Nor an ounce of fear can be detected Because I have done this many times before, And I come back always wanting more. I must clear my mind of any thinking. For if I don't I will be sinking, To a coral tomb on the sandy floor.

While traveling down the water's face, I am searching for that peaceful place, Where serenity for any man awaits If he passes through the gates. Steadfast, I outrace the ocean's roar To enter heaven through its backdoor. Crouching down past the frothy crest, I am now inside and I can rest. Like an unborn child in the maternal womb, I am a perfect fit for the Emerald Room. Only now, does balance become the test.

Earthly heaven's short-lived, my stay is done. And I make my way toward the sun. Behind my shoulder lies devastation, As I look to the horizon with anticipation. My lungs fill up with the breath I take. I pause before paddling to the break. There are peaks as far as the eye can see. This is how I will spend eternity. And standing there, my look's perplexed, For each peak is more perfect than the next. In the ocean lies my destiny. 6

Jay Coletta you come on to· me i pray this conversation never ends i know you're there this conversation will last forever i feel your presence this night oh so subtly this mood this me you make me move this you you train my mind this will always be there levels beyond levels time without you and i' d never find time again reality is there so do it again it can wait and let the night be reality is often we hesitate let the night sleep forget the morning my ears flood you' re simply not a morning type my eyes open sunrise supports your deviant ways my skin melts the afternoon will welcome us when you walk into my room our ears eyes my bones flow skin my muscles are set afire mouth my mouth tastes for the very first time bones when you talk into my room muscles will be welcomed and nurtured speak to me when the afternoon comes ever so softly and night calls us speak to me calls us ever so clearly to be continued speak to me ever so subtly speak to me ever so raw speak to me ever so natural After D speak speak your words turn me on 7 Li(e With You

B1004 and hurt fill my head Cutting and splicing into the core of my soul I want to drain every emotion out of you Like a crimson lipstick melting in a vanity drawer So you can finally understand The fierceness of your demeaning attacks And how it is to be lifeless Just like I feel Every time I enter Your house. Danielle D'Adamo Jeffrey Enright after Simon Pettet shuffled morning what else that shld mean but being mixed-up again and not still waiting for this machine drawn subway air stale through all its effort - all this movement.

Of Matter, of Space, of Airs Vibrations still & hidden detail Dust rising in slow design, accreting rain To reach multiple listening. Compass toward exile, Song's spell, the ear 'gin sealed With fever or dance, well out in the eve.

Lone magnet chord with thread, with thorn -words subtle lift

Held over exile. Cut to await Which cannot now right dusk nor clear kept world. Seal let up with music, nervous fall between one scorn. Tarnish wound & sign through water & ship, Always change & flow simple. Skeletons of no Cruel own be there wicked

& delight as all goes glittering 8 William Entrekin A New Drink

It's noisy here, slurred thoughts, staggering speech, liquid words; I sit at the old bar, scarred with memories and etched with use. A single glass flows past me with the surest head in the place, Leaving a trail of tears behind it, like the wood is weeping. There is no tear in my beer; it's a martini dry as my mouth, Shaken-not-stirred because I had to order that just this once. But it didn't make me feel like a suave super-gentleman, And the mirror didn't change at all. Maybe I need a new drink.

So wish me a cup of tears, my friend, And pray that I weep them one by one. And hope me a glass of fears, my friend, Because my old ones are almost done.

The jukebox is so loud no one in the place can understand it, And no one is paying attention to the muted television. Conversations are rampant, though there aren't any topics, Just stray words spilled here and there, god forbid on someone's pants. Laughs last so long their owners forget just what the hell was so funny, Giving way to easier smiles that require less effort to maintain, Big, strange, only semi-coherent grins like Alice found so disturbing, Of course, she just needed a new drink to loosen her up a little.

So wish her a cup of tears, my friend, And pray that they might help her a little. And hope her a glass of fears, my friend, Because without them she'll just never settle.

The bartender is a big guy with no neck and arms as big around as my legs, He's quick with the drinks and quicker when he has to show someone the door. It's big and heavy and solid, the same wood as the bar and the only entrance; I'm not sure that I'll ever understand how they missed it in the first place. They rumble and stumble and grumble against each other's backs and fronts, And inevitably some asshole decides that no, goddammit, that wasn't an accident. You got a problem, man, you got a death wish, me and my guys, you know, We can take you out, unless, of course, you want to order me a new drink. 9

So wish them a cup of tears, my friend, And pray that it slowly eases their nerves. And hope them a glass of fears, my friend, Because it's something that even they deserve.

They just want to get away, you know, escape the hard stuff and the mixed, They just want something safe, something to take their minds off of it all. Sometimes they succeed and sometimes they don't; both groups come back for more, Because sometimes it gets too hard to face it sober and clean and rational. That guy at the end of the bar, with the cock-eyed nose and the broken eyes, That's his stool, this is his place, and he stares at the wall in spite of his guests. Sometimes he puts his head down on crossed arms, an empty glass by his hand, Until the bartender gently rouses him with a shoulder tap and a new drink.

So wish him a cup of tears, my friend, And pray that he realizes he needs it. And hope him a glass of fears, my friend, Because otherwise he will be defeated.

I hope we get out of it, this old bar, this noisy place, but we all need one for the road, Because it's long and winding and badly paved and we're having trouble walking as it is. We need some kind of challenge, I guess, and they're forbidden from entering this place. This is the place to escape your fears and dry your tears and run from life for a while. So wish me a cup of tears, my friend, and pray that my soul gets sad and cries. Hope me a glass of fears, my friend, because I've been running from them for too long. Wish me a cup of tears, my friend, because I haven't felt anything in quite a while, And hope me a glass of fears, my friend, and pray that I accept that new drink. 10 A To as t Pour some life in your glass and slam it on back and see what you think of the taste. It's sweet and it's sour and it's sometimes quite bitter but the flavor is lost in its haste. But raise it high first and acknowledge the gods that only exist in your soul And keep your drink in your gut and your head in the clouds but center your heart on your goal.

A cheer to your brothers and one to your knot And remember to throw one to your love. A cheer to your friends and one to those who are not And don't forget one to your blood.

So now pound the bar and give the old grunt that comes from the back of your throat And sing with the jukebox that never stops playing and never agree with a note. And laugh a high laugh and throw your chin high and shout to the world that you're free 'Cause you're young and you're driven and ready to fly and know who you're going to be.

So cheer to your freedom and one to your flight And remember to throw one to your fame. Cheer to your victory and one to the fight And don't forget one to your game.

The great things you're doing and the greatest you've done don't compare to what you will do As you head toward the door and lay claim to the world and notice how much you just grew. Your body's no bigger and you're waist is no wider but your heart has just grown by a lot And now you're all set and rarin' to go and all that you need is a shot.

So cheer to your talent with one to your goal And remember to throw one to your drive. Cheer to your gusto with one to your soul And don't forget one to your life.

William Entrekin 11 w 1 I I 1 a m E n t r e k 1 n Dear God, D ay s Ag 0 I have a few questions for you. As the evening's sunset finally fades, GO AHEAD AND ASK. the darkness overtakes What's the meaning of life? the desire in my heart THAT'S TRUE. as well as the day it follows. Will my life count? The intense burning in my gut CAN YOU TEACH IT TO? has been extinguished, Is it worth it? though my soul is now as clammy ALL OF THE ABOVE. as my hands were Will I find that special someone? just days ago. She left days ago, ARE YOU LOOKING? Will my dreams come true? and I guess I should feel BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH. left Will I have any regrets? alone ONLY WHAT YOU DIDN;T DO. or hurt Will I always win? or deserted CAN YOU LEARN FROM YOUR LOSSES? or bitter, Will I succeed? but I'm not; CAN YOU HANDLE FAILURE AND COME I'm left nothing. THROUGH? I could let it affect me, Do you exist? could let the seeds of doubt DO YOU BELIEVE IN ME? ripen in my heart, What's the point? but I do not because I Cannot. YEAH. I could let it depress me, Am I living life to the fullest? could let myself fall WHAT DO YOU THINK? into the dark chasms of my soul, Am I successful? but I soon realize ARE YOU HAPPY? I refuse to hide. What's wrong with society? Instead, IT DOESN'T KNOW IT IS. I walk into the twilight, Will mankind be saved? let the soft darkness engulf my entire being, CAN IT SA VE ITSELF? Is peace possible? for I know Do YOU WANT IT TO BE? there is a glimmer of light in all darkness Is the future empty? which serves ONLY IF YOU DON'T FILL IT. not as illumination Can I? but rather as DO YOU WANT TO? definition of intensity. Why? WHY NOT? De a r God 12

William Entrekin Eventually the You

Eventually the you In my love poems Will be a someone. Eventually, my lady, you Will have a Name, A personality, A face. Eventually I will know Just who you are, You, about whom I have Written, Dreamt, Thought, Wondered for years. Eventually I will not Have to settle for a Good time. Eventually I will Find you, Know you when I See you, Hear you, When your soft, light Footsteps Finally echo from my Dreams to my floor. Thank God I'm Patient. 13 W1ll1am Entrekin Her Exotic Sense She looks like (A gentle rain) (Carbonation) (A snowf/,ake on your nose) She smells like ice and snow and frost (A rush of adrenaline) And fantasies of cold. (Peaches en, Cream) She smells like frozen tundra ancient lost A goddess. And the winter tales of old. She sounds like She smells like life in its purest form (A sunset) And the moment at its height. (A cleansing bath) She smells like trees to blow in storm (Sand dollars) And the sound that comes with light. (Gemstones) She smells like time and fleeting ticks, (Silk sheets) And the seconds that go by. A stream babbling through a mountain. She smells like sweeping, muted quick, She tastes like And the hour that goes to fly. (A sunrise) She smells like blue and calm and cool, (A symphony) And red and hot and keyed. (Bath & Body Works) She smells like green and fresh and new, (Passion) And yellow like the need. (Fire) She smells like all I need to know Honey. And more I wish I knew. She feels like She smells like what I wish to sow (Sherbert) And all that I wish grew. (Beethoven's Ninth) She smells like all I wish I felt (Lemonade on a hot summer day) And all I wish to feel. (Country apples and Lilac) She smells like all that life might dealt (A shimmering diamond) And the knee on which I kneel. Porcelain. She smells like (Gold) (A love song) Her Sense (Glimmering morning dew) (Wind chimes in a gentle breeze) (Black velvet and blue satin) Exotic scents whose names I don't remember. She is a poem I can only dream of writing. 14 William Entrekin This Ain't Wonderland I was expecting to chase a late white rabbit down a hole and a wild adventure to follow but didn't realize I had to find my own. I was expecting to have to run from a wildly frightening, steam-billowing-from-the-ears, wild-red-the-color-of-consuming-embers-eyed Jabberwocky but didn't realize I had already faced him. I was expecting to paint roses but didn't realize I had been for quite a while. I was expecting to play cricket with ostriches and hedgehogs as wickets in a contest for my own head but didn't realize losing it might be better. I was expecting to eat myself small and drink myself huge but didn't realize I was already just the right size. I was expecting a caterpillar with a bong who mumbled cryptic sayings fortune cookies would be envious of but didn't realize I should listen better. I was expecting to learn from a gryphon and a mock-turtle 15 but didn't realize I just had to apply my Ambition to Writhing and Silence. I was expecting to meet both Tweedledee and Tweedledum but didn't realize they were not only interchangeable but almost universally applicable. I was expecting to be oddly disconcerted by the troubling grin of a Cheshire cat but didn't realize how many times I had already seen it. I was expecting Alice to be bold, brilliant, and beautiful but didn't realize she didn't care as much about adventure as she's supposed to. I was expecting a lot, I guess, but didn't realize this ain't Wonderland.

Brenda Escobar We Wear a Mask We wear a mask when everything goes bad ... we want to hide ... from the world so far. We wear a mask when everything goes down we are lost and don't know ... Already we know that we are in villainy. We throw the good and keep the bad ... We wear a mask when everything goes bad. 16 Ke 11 y Gallagher

Thomas W oolfo once said, "You can never go home." But I am going home tomorrow. Although, I must admit I am unsure Of what may be waiting for me when I return. No doubt my mother has rearranged the furniture. I'm certain my father will be sitting in his armchair, reading the Times. Maybe Maybe they won't be the same as always.

What of my friends, Who have lived so much life without me? Will they be as I remember?

Perhaps I am what has changed, From a daughter-sister-friend-lover To a vaguely recognizable face Staring blankly after a joke I didn't quite get.

W oolfe was right, You can't go home. Though home may stay exactly as you recall it (barely), You are what will change. Each time you leave the front door, And go back to the other life you lead In the town no one had ever heard of before.

No, I will not be going home tomorrow. Homecoming 17 Kelly Gallagher Persistence in the Winter (endless)

Barren tundra stretches out for hundreds of miles, Where a forest once stood in the glory of nature's grandeur. Trees stood a million miles high, Turned love-crimson hues in autumn, And protected the birds, Which sang sweet melodies and ballads to the roses, Roses which bloomed all year round.

Then the frost came. A coldness swept over the land Each time the sun tried to warm the trees, The clouds came. Darkness settled in & refused to let the light ·through. The sun just gave up.

The birds left first, Migrated to warmer climes, Left the forest to echo only silence to the roses. Roses which soon shriveled, fell to the ground, Decayed, and left the forest ground empty beneath the trees. Trees, which once stood mighty and defiant, succumbed to the ice, Died, and sank deep into the snow.

Nothing remains here, Except the coldness, the silence, And me. 18 Jaclyn Jaccodine The Old Lady and the Blues This old woman talks of life like she has never been. She talks of all the things she's missed and things the hasn't seen. In the middle she was born and never saw the outside. She was sheltered from reality and was often made to hide. Awkward and quite strange, she never found her place. But you can see the pain she feels through the wrinkles on her face. She feels that she was cheated of the life her sibling led. She carries this anger with her for the things that happened then. Misery fulfills her day, the sun never seems to shine. But even as Death is close to her she doesn't seem to mind. The world is wrong and she is right. This will never change. She'll never forget her empty life or the mistakes her siblings made. Though her life was filled with joys, she was too blind to see. She was overcome with finding wrongs and rights not meant to be. This life owes her eternity for being one of eleven. If she can't get it while she's here she'll redeem herself in heaven. 19 Jaclyn Jaccodine The Tree on the Corner

I remember seeing you ever day a beautiful reminder in every way. You stood so proud and so bright, like a star in the darkest night. You made me see so very clearly in a place so dark and dreary, that beauty comes in different views, ways in which I came to use. Beauty doesn't have to speak, Approval, there's no need to seek. You stand there and you surely know that when the wind begins to blow, you become alive and wild and I release my inner child I see your leaves of glorious red, waving with your branches spread. I wish that I could grab one leaf, knowing they' re beyond my reach. I know that they should remain, in the place in which they came. Deep down I know that sometime soon, the leaves that you so proudly bloomed will soon fall far onto the ground from the arms that they were bound. The beauty will end until the spring when you continue the endless ring. Color will return to your bare arms, full of life and full of charrn. I wonder what you'll look like then. Will you be the way you've been? Will you miss my adoring eyes that only see you in my mind? Although we are now apart, I carry your image in my heart, a place where you will never part. 20

Macho:,s Adventure Matthew Klarmann

I guess it was somewhere around the age of seven that I first decided that I was in great need of independence. My small and premature mind had then decided that I knew it all and didn't need anyone. The little story that I am about to tell is just about entirely true. I would even go so far as to say that many can remember a similar story of their own, assuming that they really wanted to. I slammed the door behind me and started crying. The tears were a result of being punished, for what I cannot recall. I was given a sentence of one week in the solitary confinement of my room. It must be noted here, that although it was not that long ago, we are dealing here with a time before every seven year old's room was equipped with the standard stereo system, TV, and video games. I'm not saying that I was entirely deprived or anything. I did have one of those little plastic record players that played such favorites as "The Best of Sesame Street", "The Fat Albert Experience", "Mr. Rogers and the Neighbors Get Nasty", and "The Cookie Monster Unplugged". Other than that, I had to rely on my imagination. And I mean, there is only so much that G.I. Joe can do. He had already been through several wars, and had had numerous affairs with my sister's Barbie dolls. He beat the crap out of Ken many a time, until Ken was finally burned into a pile of melted plastic in the backyard. Ken just couldn't accept the fact that Joe was sleeping with his wife. Joe was first caught when my little sister found Joe and Barbie in all their nakedness inside of Barbie's mansion. Anyway, my punishment brought me to the realization that my social life had been ruined at the age of seven. I could not bear the thought <:,f sitting in that Romper Room dungeon for an entire week. That is when I decided that I ~ould have to break free if I ever wanted a chance at any kind of life of freedom. I had to get out. Ah yes! That's what I'd do. I swiped the tears from my reddened cheeks with an air of defiance. I scurried quickly to my closet and flung it open. I reached in with a confident arm and snatched a few T-shirts and my coat from the hangers. I then rustled through my drawers and pulled out some striped socks and colored underwear. I gathered all of the items into a ball and tossed them into my duffel bag. I threw on my jacket, put on my mittens, strapped on my earmuffs, and put on my wool cap. I then realized that my journey might require a few extra survival necessities. I stacked my bag with five dollars in change, my baseball mitt, a half of a Snickers bar, and a cigarette that I had stolen from my father a month or so earlier. I zipped the bag shut and nervously exited my room. My mother just looked at me. She could see that I was about to defy a sacred authority and break free of my shackles like a champ. I felt like a man. I put on my best Clint Eastwood face, which I had learned from watching shit kickers with my grandfather. I stood tall and waited for the warden's desperate plea for me to stay. "What do you think your 21

~ doing? I told you not to come out of that room," she stated with a cruel and demonic-like smile. a "I'm running away," I blurted with a quivering voice as I held back a tear that was gathering at my lower eyelid. C "Oh yeah?" she said. "Good luck." "I'm leaving for good this time." h "OK'' , "Alright ... I'm going now... you're never gonna see me again" I awaited her 0 plea. None came. I felt the urge to cry. I knew that I had to get out of there quick before the dam broke. But I could not leave without some unforgettable last words S that would haunt my mother forever in her misery of my absence and her guilt. The tension was mounting as my dog, Macho, sniffed the contents of my bag excitedly. My mother then asked, "What's in the bag?" Aha! An opening. A hint of worry! "None of your business. What do you care? You don't care about me and I know A it!" I stated this with perfect execution. So perfect. And just to add to this tapestry of defiance and anger that was to forever burn in my mother's conscience, "I'm d taking Macho with me!" I grabbed Macho's leash and ran out of the door furiously with the happy animal following frantically. V I stepped out onto the front porch and put Macho' s leash on. I breathed in e the cold air as he looked at me excitedly. He was a very interesting dog to say the least. When he was just two weeks old, his left eye was scratched by a stray cat in ll our back yard. He had surgery, but lost all of his sight in that eye. Since then, he's had a wandering eye. When he would move around a lot or get excited, the left eye t would wander around in all kinds of silly directions. He was a great dog, however. He was very obedient, playful, and harmless(especially around cats). Being a ll German Shepherd with a curious eye, however, made him look quite the opposite. At this particular moment, Macho looked to be possessed by some wild r demon in his head. "It's just me and you now, Macho. No one else cares about us," I explained to my confused companion as I tugged on his leash and began to walk. e We didn't even make it off the porch before the overly excited canine decided to relieve himself of all bodily waste. He had now made a bold farewell just as I did. And so there sat Macho's own steamy nuggets of defiance at the edge of the porch. His final goodbye sat awaiting the return of my father from a hard day at work. I considered this a most fitting departure. As Macho dragged my thin body down the block, I felt something that I had never felt before. I felt free, independent. I felt like a grownup. I could do whatever I wanted. No one could tell me what to do any longer. I was my own man. No more worries. Man this was going to be great. I had escaped the harsh realities and pressures that a seven year old must face daily. Macho and I hopped along happily until we arrived at a frightening obstacle. John F. Kennedy Boulevard! There it stood in all its glory. A four laned monster that I had never before even thought of crossing. Cars whipped by furiously as I pondered the unspeakable penalty that would be pressed upon a seven year old if he had crossed. Oh the humanity! 22

Macho glared at me with his one good eye as the other studied something in its own far off universe. I then realized that I would have to walk that long lane ~ across the John F. Kennedy death trap into manhood. Suddenly, my confidence was snipped by the voice of Mrs. Wooderson, who lived in the corner house. a. "Matthew, Is that yout; Oh Christ this is awful! If she was to stop me now, she would call my mother and have me put on death row. "Matthew?" Oh, for all t that is good and sacred! I had to do something fast. I decided not to answer her t at all. Maybe she wouldn't think it was me if I didn't turn around. The light flashed green. It was now or never. Macho and I put on our best disguises and h_ bravely stepped into the street. We walked in the forbidden walkway like true warrior-poets. Drivers and passengers gazed at us in amazement. I felt as if I was e walking on water. We made it safely to the haven of the sidewalk. Macho was in particularly high spirits as we strolled along. I was taking W in all that freedom had to offer. Macho did the same as he stopped to sniff some yellow snow. I could now see a few figures down the block, loitering in front of the schoolyard. As I got closer to the figures, my nerves and confidence began to crumble. Could it be? Oh lord. My stomach twisted into a Windsor knot as Fe I recognized who I was soon about to encounter. It was Bobby McFurlan and friends, The toughest kids in the world. Bobby was the worst of all. He was I ruthless. He was feared by everyone. I knew that he and his toadies were waiting for little kids like me to pound on. a. My feet somehow struggled forward, but the rest of me wanted to sprint r home. There I was, caught between J.F.K. Boulevard and the most deadly marauder in all of Bayonne. These are the things that nightmares are made of. m I had never seen Bobby at work, but I had heard terrible tales of wrath and affliction that he had unmercifully bestowed on even the baddest of eighth a. graders. He had even sparred with high school kids. Bobby was only in the seventh grade, and he had already battled some of the top-ranked heavy weight r1 freshmen. He feared no one, not even the cops. My shivering hand rattled Macho's leash and he began to get excited. He r1 could smell my fear. He looked into my eyes with his eye. His other eye whirled in circles as he cheered me on to move forward. I felt as if I were about to release some Hershey squirts in my colored underpants as visions of a brutal attack flashed through my mind. I approached the angry mob, wrenching out any confidence left in my queasy gut. They just stared at me, until Bobby said something to the kid next to him that made him laugh. I felt as though I was in slow motion. The pull of Macho's leash was the only thing that kept me moving. The tension in the air was so thick that you could slice it with a razor. I had to do something to save myself. "Hey," was all that came out of my mouth. Not enough. I had to do better. "What's going on, guys?" I said, impressing myself and Macho with my calmness. "Hey, come over here," said Bobby after a pause that seemed like eternity. I walked towards the group, looking as cool as I could. I sat down on the step and looked at the group. Bobby stared at me with a wicked smile. "What's your dog's name?" 23

"His name is Killer," I said smoothly. "What's wrong with him?" lVl "What do you mean, man?" "What's with his eye?" Bobby asked as he lit a cigarette. Macho sat a defenseless in confusion. "Oh that," I said. "He's crazy." C Bobby drew back his head. "No shit. How's he crazy?" "We're not sure. My parents wanted to have him put to sleep after he ate our cat, but no vet will go near him." h "He ate your fuckin' cat?" ''Yup. And damn near bit my fucking cousin Eddie's fucking finger off too. o' He just gets real hungry, I guess. Eats all kinds of shit." I was cursing like a big boy now. s The crowd looked at Macho and made some nervous gestures. Bobby put out his cigarette and put his hands in his pockets. "Don't worry, though. He can't hurt you as long as I got a hold of him. He does whatever I tell him to do," I said as my confidence ballooned. I pulled Macho close to me and gripped his leash tightly at the collar. However, it seemed as though Bobby might be on to me. A "But he don't look crazy or nothin, man. He just looks kinda stupid or somethin," Bobby keenly observed. "He's alright as long as he's fed," I said as I reached into my bag for the cl Snickers bar. I opened the rapper and started eating it. Macho started to deliriously lunge at the candy with his eye spinning in circles of excitement. I V finished the last bite and said, "I think he's alright. He ate yesterday." Bobby didn't seem too moved by my antics. "So if I tried to knock your fuckin' head off, Killer e will eat my ass" he asked right before his jaw dropped. I started to literally shake in my shoes. "Why would ... I don't think ... You wanna knock my ... head. . . off" I suddenly developed a stuttering problem. Bobby got up and lunged n towards me. He grabbed my arms and threw them behind my back as all of his friends laughed and cheered with adolescent excitement. Macho's eye spun out of t control as he began barking. I started to cry out of fear, but hid my face successfully. Everything seemed to be moving quickly. It felt as though I were in ll some sort of strange zone, wherein none of the occurring events were of actual reality. I didn't feel myself. I experienced a surge of adrenaline emerge from my fear as I somehow slithered free from the armlock. As my arm swung free, my hand r accidentally struck Bobby in the mouth. My entire seven year old world came to a halt and my life flashed before my eyes. Bobby stopped in awe and put his hand e to his mouth. I saw a little blood sitting on his lower lip. I had never experie~oo a fear so great in all my seven and a half years. I'm not sure of where it came,ffom, but I quickly punched him as hard as I could in the mouth and ran like a banshee on fire. Macho was quick to follow. · My heart pounded as I sprinted for home. I thought that my heart would jump out of my chest as I reached the Boulevard. By the grace of God and all of the saints, the light 24 flashed green as I was just ten yards or so from the street. Macho then passed me up as we entered the street. He knew as well as I did of the ~ severe deaths that would come to us if we slowed even a second. I followed Macho. as he led me to the safety of our home. As we ran by, my father stood on the porch with a boot caked in dog shit. He looked a_ at us with a look of rage and confusion. He was the least of my worries right now. I ran past him and into the house. My mother stood cooking calmly at the stove. t "That wasn't long," she said as Macho and I darted past her, nearly tripping over our own speed. We ran straight into my room and t I locked the door behind me. I looked at Macho and he gave a sigh of relief. We had made it. We made it back to the safety and comfort of my room. h e w

Fe J_ a_ r m a_ 25 Ryan Livingston Her Hair Flowed like the wind, Her eyes colored the sky. I tried to speak But could not. Then she was gone. L 0 s t T r 1 u m p h The sun shined brightly on them. The brigands, they charge. His shield glistened, near. So must he, with sword in fist. He loved her and she loved him, But his duty called. A pain fills her gut. Her tears stained his white tunic. It lingers, aching badly.

Then the sky grew dim. Rain flowed and the sea darkened. A carriage draws near, Evil boat took him, A black cart with a black horse. And it's dark break waved at her. A man approaches She cannot see him. At once she opens the door. She loved him and he loved her. It was not her love.

Night fell very quickly. He presents her with a box. Tomorrow he would attack, A cracked sword and shield Him and the fifth troop; Lie atop a dark red cloth. But that was not important, She cries, it's her love's tunic. She was far away. He misses her and she missed him. The man opens the carriage door. On crutch, her love comes, She held his picture His stomach bandaged. Near to her still beating heart. He loves her and she loves him. She longs for the day That he will return to her. Envoy: Weeks pass without him. War is a strong force She loves him and he loves her. It destroys everything. A man's devotion Victory at Chal. And woman's undying love Triumph in the Devil's Gulf. Will overtake war. The front is now clear. So what, she is no where near. 26 Cole Mankin Bird-Chested

Who's the one with the golden voice? Who's free will makes the grade A cuts choice? What's a book but flatness to balance on my head? I forget about my father and say things in his stead. Archetypes ingrained, but the style remains. Tell your buddies "Take care" while I don't sleep and take pains To make my start with art that's straight from the heart. Only the stony seems sturdy. Real things fall apart. I fancy always expanding points of reference. To the mystics of the earth I give my deference. Lyrics are effervescent. Bubbled-up and complete. Gerard Manley Hopkins was a Jesuit poet priest. I'm a fan of hip-hop who believes in doper beats, Opals of consternation And pharmaceuticals. Sip the Ballantine Ale. Biting nails harms my cuticles. Spiritual girth is what makes me fat. Odours, pregnant, vouchsafed, remember that. Blessed with gifts (lest we forget) life's a test of wits: You could be baptized twice with no fringe benefits. I'll be writing hits until my brain cells oxidize. Liar's paradox keeps it real- fulfills the moxy prize. My strategy's to ride alone on a tandem bike With discursive rhymes pushing one chorus pedal on the mic. Wisdom in a system of rhyming couplets. Melodrama like Stone Cold vs. the muppets. If it's good in your 'hood then you say that it's tight. Miller Light and if not, then the killer insight. Lefty loosey prophets only speak in terms of a fight. Flip the will's skills for transcendental truth. Midas, mira Cole gold in the tooth. Badu and Roots made "the other side ... " First time I heard it I almost died. 401k and Roth plans are bona fide. When some can't stand, take it in stride. 27

I'm Argus-eyed, best on the block. Some try to rock and can't take stock. Brass, strings, woodwinds, and rhymes per cuss. Last worry in my mind is pulling punches when I bust. Ale is to braille as to common sense, Speaking of my yarbles as too intense, Making solutions from the sediments, . (Best believe) Out the gate gonna pass that fence. Vulnerable or venerable, together we contain The enigma of humanity we curiously maintain. Rhyme for me a line and a shot of the gin. Quinine courses through a twenty-year-old has-been. Sliding down a paradigm like Russel Edson. Patrick Mulcahy Drunk Again

So ya still drinkin' beers after all those country­ Western tears Just through changing your habits for a pair of brand New shoes I can help ya Just drop the abbot for the blue suede noose No news All you have to do is say: Gimme a hand Mr. Majesty Save me from this savagery Shun my eyes from depravity Send on over a cup of that sanity Sure it sounds greasy But it's a lease ... see Don't forget this fact Your peace is a loaner Dress down your act Cause you have a new owner Beat me out of longevity No honor Say it But you had to do it Say gimme my hand Mr. Majesty Say gimme a hand Mr. Majesty I never believed in myself or gravity. Break up all this reality Bone me up on a new morality 28 Patrick Mulcahy Mortality's Soul Babble

They look at him with his emaciated frame, His dirty hair, His crimson bloodshot eyes, And the heavy breathing. They think to themselves, "It must be the drugs, stirring himself in acidic soup". "What a pity, what a rotten way for a white boy to waste". It was then the boy fiercely explained, silently. Without opening his mouth, he said, "I don't want your dear pity, I just want an ear to share my fear. See these shaky hands, They shake with the ache of years yoked in yearning, Want is what causes this burning. These eyes, yeah, they wander With the wonder of what's before me. They stab with wild glances for opportunities, Since chances often make awkward advances. I've missed enough open doors to bulge a bag or two. My breath, true, is abrupt from the longing in my chest. I am quite afraid it might erupt. Still, bring on more pain for this body that bleeds, My opinion is that it might give me a lead, That is the pain might give me a genuine path to follow, Since I've had to swallow my fill of fugazi. I've just gotta be me. Can't be anyone else. I'd run and hide But words are the only friends I've got on the outside. Sometimes my feeling is that hope is dead. Never a thought of ease, Nowhere to look for need up ahead, It's probably better not to say these things. But the soul set asunder, Sits in the shade taking cover, Bodies that bleed are always left in bed. Can't you see the scream? Why won't any hold the hand of a human Whose hastened towards a hanging? 29

I'm not even asking for help from above. All that I wanted was someone who loved me." Never cried the day. Never shouted the No One outside the door. Never berates the Always inside my head. Still people gamble for no prize, Their pursuit for a piece of mind, Looking like tomorrow in a morning shirt and tie. They are too clean to be true. And it happened finally. The Lord would only supply the rope, Rope to hang his sorrow on, An ending to the pain. No one said, "Amen".

He packed his fags for pleasure, It's all he knew he had for sure, Except a body that bled and a soul set asunder. Eventually this body unblessed in which disease did leak, Had it's soul taken. Death captures all supposed weak. This body that bled was soon set asunder, Because it was lacking much care, And it suffered much plunder. "Too bad",said the fans of the funeral. "Wake's at 8: 00", jibed the bringers of burial. Glad isn't the soul for having such friends, Sad is the body 'cause it's means meant the end. 30 Patrick Mulcahy Nobody:,s and Never:,s Sons and Daughters

They always make you wait. Please, hold and wait, wait and hold. We didn't create musac. Just another pile of shit they're feeding us. "Hold on please",they say. They disgust me. The Baby Boomers and Silver Hairs have pinned the scarlet 'x' on our breasts, Condemned to die on the cross before we even get a chance. They say we're slackers, no good nicks, hopeless lay abouts. To them we are the present purveyors of all things evil. "Excuse me", I'd like to say that this is all too much to swallow Was it someone 18-25 who created nuclear warfare? uh no It wasn't us who decided to drop the bomb either. The Silver Hairs created us and continue on dressed in their robes and hoods of hate. Where does the blame lie? You know, I don't remember anyone who's my age turning a hose on someone they didn't agree with.... I don't think it was a generation X'er Who threw the Japanese into internment camps. No one from my generation thought it would be a good idea to create Israel so the Jewish people wouldn't come here after WWII. Not one member of my era caused the massive proliferation of weapons in the Middle East. Yet they hold us in contempt. We're an eyesore. A residue left over from their toxic waste overflow "Look at the glutenous pregnant drug-addicts", they say. Let me put this plainly: "Fuck off". It was the decadent Baby Booming beatnik bottom-feeders who established widespread drug use and free love. No one in my birth date bracket brought AIDS on the scene. Cocaine, smack, crack, ice, LSD, pot, ludes, uppers, downers, wippids, etc. etc. All these drugs prominent in pop culture and we didn't invent or introduce a single frickin' one of them. It wasn't a 18 year old club kid who dressed up heroin as ecstasy and started handing it out to kids. Please, the CIA has their hands so dirtied in drug shit that all of the toilet paper in the world 31 couldn't clean the crap off. They created mandatory minimums just to punish us for their own mistakes. Now the aged ar~ prescribing overactive children with mind bending drugs like Ritalin. No one knows the long term effects of these drugs. Not us, not them. Why then? They say, "Let's pop in Barney and shoot the kids up, that way we can spend as little time with them as possible. For a nice profit our elders are diluting the one resource that we have left by calling it, get this, hyper-active. God forbid. Next in the category of "Ask a Stupid Question"? Adults wonder why their latch-key kids are in the basement sniffing laundry detergent. Can you say HOPELESS? No one wants to take care of these kids or at least they're not trying very hard. And we're watching as the old and decrepit steal the life right from under these babies blankies. Why? It's because they did the same thing to us and now most of us are dead inside. Those that aren't can be convinced of their worthless nature through marketing schemes and labels. Generation Next?!!? Jesus help us! I can't believe some of us are buying it. We shouldn't swallow any marketing ploy that tries to convince us that we're inferior.

Hell, I just don't know who to trust anymore. I don't want to wait for my place at their table. I can't understand why? Why would they keep me on hold so long .... Wait so long just to hear that Voice say, "Sorry son, you didn't get the job". Why? 32

Pat r 1 ck M u 1 C a h y~ -._:a_ Today was a nothing day. As nothing goes and it did. b Mainly, I dazedly dozed. -y- When I didn't, I slept. But, in my dreams, no one was there. So, nobody cared, and I wept. ~ From this I awoke, no rum, no coke, And a butt was had by none ~ (No one from whom I'd bum). On to the tidy man, h Where I caught a snooze a... In the can. :r V I arose from this smelly repose That merely left me stiff. s I cried out, "Oh, please dear gods of the hip and mod, Give me something new and brighter, ~ Rock-n-Roll nothing lighter". ~ But still, on my channels There isn't a bite. ""'7 And so I resigned with another prayer, A prayer of rope, ~ Rope to hang this mope, ~ (Or agony). As nothing goes, ~ I hope it went, ~ And I really will be glad If it did. Nothing Ruby Nahar's Revenge Childhood memories eh? That sounds easy enough to recall, but I don;t know where to start. Ages eleven to thirteen are totally blocked off. Too much pain to think about and way too much to ever talk about. One through four, I can't remember. Hell, anyone who can has too much time on their hands. Let me think for a second... nine, yeah, that was a good year. It was good to be nine. When I was nine years old, I attended Holy Family grammar school, played soccer, little league baseball, and watched every cartoon on God's greatest gift from "Inch High Private Eye" to "G.I. Joe". Life was good. Life was simple. I was a normal kid, a little hyper maybe. Actually, I was the devil dressed in a putrid green Catholic school uniform. Today, I 33 would have been advisably prescribed with mind altering drugs due to my behavior. Luckily, I was allowed to run wild and take the mind altering drugs of my choice in high school. There were times I would copycat older kids' crimes like overflowing toilets and running other people's clothing up a flagpole. Usually, I appreciated other kid's ingenuity. I never really worried about retaliation because I had two Irish older brothers who had reputations for wearing shit kickers and quite frankly, they liked kicking shit. So, when I stuck gum in Greg Aiello's hair for calling me a dingleberry, I didn't care he was four years older than me. The nun's at my school however were pulling their hair out trying to figure out what to do with me while my parents knew it was just a stage that all their kids went through(this didn't get my ass out of their sling however). One week stands out in my mind vividly. Not because of the sheer creative nature of the crimes that I committed, or the punishment that ensued, but because of one little girl named Ruby Nahar. She would bring about my downfall, death by nerd. Monday, I was caught climbing the church wall. Sister Margaret Anne made me hang there for the rest of the day. Tuesday, I threw Mike Raum's shoe in the toilet while we were changing for gym. Sister Jude told me to get it out. I refused exclaiming, "But Sister he kicked me in the ass". Getting dragged away by my ear never felt better... better than sticking my hand in a toilet. Wednesday, I was caught wearing Kelly Gibson's headband in the library. Mrs. Mitchell said, "since you want to be a comedian, you can wear that headband for the rest of the week." I got plenty of laughs that week. Thursday, I got even closer to the fire. During religion, I switched the record "Wheat of the World" which was Sister Anne's choice with my own. I put on AC-DC's ·album "High Voltage" cueing up "She's Got Balls". You should have seen the look on her face when she turned that old record player to the "on position". The best part of this prank was that I kept my best poker face and didn't get caught. Friday though would be a rough day for me. It will live in my mind as a day of defeat. In my parents mind, I was bad but these nun's thought that I was rotten to the core. I was positioned next to all the good kids in class. My buddies, on the other hand, were situated on the other side of the room. Tara Binkowski, Ruby Nahar, and Sandra Rayas surrounded me in the front corner of the room. They were instructed to tell on me for anything. I don't know why they did what they did that day. I think maybe it was payback for Sister Anne(who was actually a very sweet woman). These girls, who were notorious for cooties, decided to rip lip farts at differing intervals during class. They got all the laughs and I got tossed from the classroom. I was framed, sent to the principal's office for what would be another pointless punishment. I could not believe it. Ruby Nahar, quietly and coyly, had ripped a lip fart every time the teacher turned her back. Every time, I was told to cut it out. Finally, I just jumped up, pointed at Ruby and screamed, "It's not me, it's Ruby". Sister Marie Fidelis pointed at the door and my week was over. I still can't believe those girls got one over on me. Anyway, it was good to be nine. It was fun. 34 Patrick Mulcahy

It is a beautiful day in Jersey City or to be quite honest "as good as it gets;;. The air is clean for a change and a soft breeze takes a bite off the humidity. One of those summer days here when you don't get dirty just from walking up the street (of course that's assuming you don't touch anything). Sometimes sitting here in Saint Peter's quad, I almost forget that I'm a temporary resident of Jersey's "Chill Town". So that is where I sit observing one of the city's most entertaining events: a Saint Peter's daily noontime fashion show. A parade of people run through the quad. It's usually a fun way to pass the time, somewhat colorful but mostly laughable. Today, I sit with a couple of friends who have a certain propensity for watching the world go by. The extent or degree of how scantily clad the women of this world are becomes inclusive in how my attention they pay. As a rule I'm not usually inclined to partake in this activity but I'm alone to wallow in my own crapulence, so to speak. So I sit and watch as the day rolls along steadily into the afternoon. Myself and the brain trust continue to "ooh and aah" at some and sarcastically reply "God Damn" at most of the guys and girls that pass us by in the quad. Then, it happened. My friends tend to think of me as a hippie (although hippies are long extinct) and a girl caught their eye that they thought I would like. One of them poked and said, "dude, check this out." Ignoring the chivalric nature of what he implied, I turned and looked over toward the Pope building where a girl with real long hair had turned and headed into the quad. She was dressed like someone straight out of a "Grateful Dead" song with the "rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes" but missing the flower in her hair. Her hair as I mentioned was long and it fell about her face as she appeared to float across the pavement. Wearing a long flowing skirt and a white frilly blouse with flowers embroidered on it, she moved toward us. We were silent witnessing the grace seldom seen in a girl wearing clogs. But as she moved toward us something happened. She fumbled with a hair tie until she finally got her hair out of her face. I wish she hadn't because that's when I heard the voice next to me whisper softly, "God Damn,".------. the emphasis falling soundly on the word "damn". The other replied "SCUD missile, the missile looks good from far away but ya don't want to get too close.;; I got up, looked at them in disgust, and walked away. I was disappointed that she wasn't what I wanted but more than disappointed with myself. Disappointed because I know that I'm no Magnum P.I. either. 35 Patrick Mulcahy What Is Funny Then?

"So I says to Mabel, 'Mabel!' and she says 'Hey Johnny, the dead one's full.' Pretty funny, huh. That's about as rich as it gets, right?" Nothing. Except for the few rustling noises of people shifting in their seats, nothing, I didn't get one frickin' chuckle. If a cockroach crawled right across my hardwood floor, you' d've heard every single solitary leg scratching the surface. Wait a second. Where does she think she's going? She can't leave me out here with these comically challenged characters. I won't do it. Hell, they're her friends. "Kate, do you need a hand with anything?" "No thanks, I'm fine," she says. I can't believe she's gonna leave me sitting here. Think brain. Oh, forget it that never works. "Excuse me ... .I uh ...better go help her anyway. Women ...you know they like that sort of stuff." Jesus, I always have to dig myself in deeper but at least I'm outta there. The only time that I like to go into the kitchen is for food and refuge ... beer sometimes. "What are you doing in here?" she said with that inflection only a disgruntled woman can master. "I'm dying out there. Why didn't anyone laugh at my joke? It was a quality;' I said with that sympathy whimper that only a desperate man can muster. "You aren't funny," she said in an all too familiar and serious manner that usually · preempts a lecture. "Oh right, I'm not funny. Give me a break. What's funny then?" I said in a distinctly defensive tone. Kate stood up from where she was preparing some food at the kitchen table and brought a tray of assorted goodies into the other room. I looked for something sharp to mimic a mock suicide with but before I could she returned. With an abrupt motion, she pulled out a chair and motioned that I sit down. "Your roommate is entertaining 'our guests.' Do you want to help me with dinner?" she said. "Why am I not funny?" I asked with an edge of ice tinging the question. Shoving a bowl of green beans in my general direction, she smiled, and said, "I think it's because you're the straight man to other people's humor." "How do you mean?" I said, losing the aggression that was obvious in my earlier comments. "Did you ever watch that show Seinfeld? Well, Jerry's not funny at all but he surrounds himself with people who are funnier than him ... " Cutting in I said, "and because of that people think he's funny." -"Exactly," she said. "What about that time my dad kept calling that widow's boyfriend by her husband's 36

~~ T name. Come on ... that was funny." ~ "Yes but only when it was over and it was apparent that the woman didn't get hurt by his mistake. It was uncomfortable during and funny h afterwards," she said. "I don1t get itt I said. ''You know ... like an Aerosmith song or a Jim Carey movie," she said with an air of knowledge on this particular topic. "You mean like those British comedy sitcoms on PBS?" I said inquisitively. s "You're getting it," she said. "What about that time you dropped your wallet at the opera and we both bent down to get it at the same time . . . " I started but she broke in mid-sentence. F "We hit our heads together on that crowded elevator. That kind of stuff is priceless, hysterical, slap stick. Chevy Case does it pretty good but it's only funny in certain situations," she said with a soft laugh. "Chevy Chase movies are only funny when they're over and I still don't understand why no one laughed at my joke." "Hooker jokes don't fly at adult dinner parties," she said shaking her head in a way that made me think of a grammar school nun's reprimand. y "Do hooker jokes get laughs at NOW meetings?'' I was reaching for that intangible smile. "Shut up," she said, standing up and walking over to the refrigerator. "How am I supposed to know what's okay to make fun of and what's not at today's PC policed parties," I said. "Okay," she said sitting back down, "The only people that you're ever truly safe making fun of is . . . " "Who? Come on don't leave me hanging," I said. "The Nazis, of course. I thought that everyone knew that rule," she 1""':l_ said with a emphasized sigh. "Do you know what Hitler said when his son was born?" I quipped. ;:> "No, and I know that I'm going to regret asking. What did Hitler say?" ,... Kate sighed once again. "Hotsy totsy, a new born Nazi. I still got it right?" I said with an actual jab of my elbow. "Hint, hint. Nudge, nudge." "No you never did Ralph 'Mouth' and I'd appreciate it if you kept your Happy Days humor in the kitchen club. Okay? I really don't understand why all boys have to be funny. Can you tell me why?" she said getting up once more to turn off one of the burners. "Seriously, tell me why." "That's a stupid question," I said. "Gee thanks, I spend all this time trying to tell you what funny is and you call me stupid," she professed with a heated undercurrent of muttered obscenities following close behind. 37

"I didn't mean 'stupid' as in 'dumb.' I meant 'stupid' as in 'obvious,"'~ I said quickly, trying to avoid a fight. "Obvious?" she said. -._ "Yeah, like asking a horny guy if he'd like to be a girl for a day. I just .I.. 1 thought you knew why, like you thought I should know what 'appropriate; meant," I said. She laughed and said, "Tell me. I really want to know." "It's because I want to make you happy. I probably won't be the richest guy or the classiest guy(obviously). Even still, If I can make you laugh then I can probably make you happy. That way you'll always love me," I said adding as much schmooze as possible. "You are funny sometimes," she said giving me a little kiss on the forehead then she walked out of the kitchen. I stood up, grabbed some napkins, and headed for the living room. "I F just wish that I could remember that punchline from the one about the midget who rides into the bar on a horse." 38 Edith Nowak S l a V e r y

Lost In a dark alley Called life, A dead end With no way out, Where no one will Hear you scream And shout A paradise for the lost And weak Who are a demon's Favorite feast ... Is there a way to be saved Before the burial in your Own grave? Life makes humans It's own slave.

Della Reed The Creation of Eve by Adam With the snap of his fingers she came to him and from her entire body he made the world ... From her lips he made the rivers And from her hands he made the skyline From her breasts he made the stars And from her eyes he made the moon... But from her soul he made the wind, so when it blew with all her fury and might ... He would be able to feel her... 39

H a g a r S p e a k s

What pain you must have known, Sweet Hagar, not in the bearing of Ishmael our first born child, but, the unfulfilled expectation of the joy that was to come from his birth. In its stead, a legacy left by the God of the man who defiled you the men who've defiled me. Ishmael, forever to be known as son of sin, a lapse in man's dignity. the destiny, of this child of a slave, was not to make great nations but, to tare down with every man's hand against him. In tears of agony, Hagar, a slave girl spoke:

She spoke to Abraham for once violated was enough and so, she spoke, perhaps to the only direction she saw fit: up. Not, to the distant Hebrew God, whd d demanded her body be a sacrifice but to the sky, connected to the sea, connected to a homeland maybe not too far away maybe Africa.

Hagar spoke the slave woman's tongue was formed she spoke no more

Did you know, Hagar? you would be sought after by many a woman on the run like you. Did you know, Hagar? it would be Sara, not you upon the pedestal Speak again, Hagar Speak. 40

For, many woman's body continues to be defiled as the vehicle for a cause. Speak, child. u speak, into the hands uplifted in prayer. :c (b Into me if you need to. I mend our broken spiritedness, that does nothing ~ ,...._.... but persist, with a new promise. (]q Hagar, Speak. n,...._... . Speak, for that you never did ~ ~ 'cept to call out to a God t--t who for so long pretend not to hear. Speak from the very pit your loins ~ still scarred by your shame and sorrow VJ (b Ishmael. let not your silence be known as strength ~ '< it is rarely silent. (b =1 Speak, Child. 0 let them know that the God ~ t who did answer, did so in the power of your own voice. ~ 0... When you do, what you once did rJ:J en speak, Hagar. speak to the misbegotten and misunderstood. Speak to me, Hagar, just speak. 41 My Reality

Drug Dealers across the street threatening and taunting e to the kids so very scary. what did you think, was my everyday reality?

1 High-rise playgrounds, all dressed up like prisons many a toddler's dream, of 1 being free to explore to be a child is infiltrated, desecrated by quick get rich schemes. The focus on C making profits ... off souls not fully formed, by 1 snake-eyed drug dealers looking for their resting place in children turned dope fiends. a what, did you think was my everyday reality?

When and where survival is the key to sanity and maybe getting out is like e a fly by night hoping that the occasional drive-by-might y not kill me. did you ever stop to think there are no other streets to cross ll. in this everyday reality. C> And, What? you expect me to WHAT? 1 pull up, pick up the shards of my socially ingrained, internalized nothingness? cl Well, is that before or after s 42

I try and stop a child from smoking by the cornerstore, la bodega how can I ask her to say good-bye to her closest friends mari and her sister juana. community flower symbolic flower to choose? and, whatever would be my choice in this so called everyday reality?

And, we, though they are my people, in our slums, what do we have to show? Colors, endless colors. the amber, bronze and ebony badges of the sun beating constantly on our bended backs. Cultures, some big, bright, others small some broke, many broken. And, I, have no solution. Strength is creed of my people unrecognized, uncounted. And some looking in the only direction that makes sense forward surprised? that God is not my only answer, is no longer a way to perpetuate my status Quo? Surprised? that amongst all turmoil I am still. Desperately, trying to see past, amidst all frustration, the truth of my own inferiority. What are we to say, for what we have to show? crime, hopeless cases also known as children, drug dealers. How do we deal with all we've ever known bigotry, ethnocentricity, the subtlety of racism, the glass ceiling in which I can no longer see my reflection, How do I begin to find a way out.... ? 43

K e 1 1 y R 1 V e t t 1 requite d Love

If for just one day I could touch you on the inside Make my words have an impression on you Some effect on your life Some meaning in your world Maybe then you would realize how every action you perform affects me I taste your tears when you cry

I feel the tremble of your laughter The thought of your smile gives me a reason To open my eyes early in the morning Your goodnight kiss gives me a reason to close my eyes Only to dream of being embraced, loved, and cherished by you someday If .. . When .. . I touch you on the inside We can be more than friends As of now my eyes are blurred with tears As you hold my heart the jagged edge I feel How can it be the sword is meant to pierce my verdant soul? I am awakened by that thought that only comes in my daydream Only in my dreams can I feel your love. 44

Ma Katrina Sabater Into the Darkness ...

And watch the waves forever roll. I know we're near our destination For now I see the land. The acres of greed - so promising I gaze into the darkness And the feel of the miles of sand. So far away from land One more time I breathe the salty air I see some lights before me And let the wind play with my hair But beyond the reach of my hand. As I gaze back into the darkness ... And into the glaring moonlight Into the distant darkness. It shines down upon the sea The dim, deep darkness like a cloth That's woven and shaken, calm and evenly. My gaze is slightly altered Though it remains upon the sea The deep, dark fabric that stretches As far as I can see. But now I catch attention To the laugh of a little boy His eyes are lit like he Has found a delightful little toy. As he looks upon the darkness And the fog that's all around he holds on to his mother tightly In fear of any sound. What monster lies hiding Beneath the big, blue sea? What kind of treasure is still buried Untouched, unseen by me? But now the clouds are closing in And the mist is hugging too tight And the cool breeze no longer comforting Nor the darkness a pretty sight. My feet now ache for the feel of ground So solid against my soles And yet I want to stay on board 45

Ma. Katrina Sabater N e V e r A g a 1 n The greenest grass and the bluest bays The simple songs of delightful days The sweetest scent of fragrant flowers The prayerful pause of holy hours The sunny sky with cotton clouds Marvelous mountains and sacred sounds no more ... Mother, father, sister brother Old or young no longer linger. "Stayt I say. "Stay right here;; "No," he said. "Never near" Why my eyes cry thousands' tears I'll never see them-NEVER-I fear Barbed wires and prison chains Scheduled selections of ill insanes Dead bodies in shallow wells Lonely roll calls, shrilly bells. Living in this lonely hell Knowing they'H not live to teH Daily dreads for little bread Never loved and never fed. Noises screaming in their heads As they sleep on iron beds. Not uttering a single word Fearing that they might be overheard. They only listen to what Hitler said Because his words would wake them dead. Hoping help is on its way Hoping Hitler's in hell today. Hoping to never live another day Their love had diminished away Please promise me if you can Promise me ... Never Again! 46 Ma. Katrina Sabater S t l e n t Night

Brooding silence in the corner Along an everlasting gaze Noises rise to a crescendo Ever-waiting, ever-fearing Breaking things beyond repair Knowing everything's a-craze. Through the door he scampers out Tears in silence in the nighttime Banging, banging, here and there. Feeling lonely; all alone. Hold on tightly in your covers Never ceasing, never slowing sleep like nothing had occurred. It's a stream that's never known. Keep your doors locked In the silence of the nighttime tonight, my child In the crazy song of stars It's nothing that you heard. Always dreaming, From the cracks Always dreading between the doorway That tomorrow there'll be wars. From my room and into hers Listening gently to the words Is a sound so still a crying Always spoken with a hate. It's a life that's always cursed. Knowing never will it stop And I sit so still in silence. Maybe it was just my fate. Gazing nowhere in the dark. Intently gazing out in space And the night goes on forever And seeing nothing in return Leaving in my mind the mark. Slowly speaking words Somewhere sleeping in the silence that don't mean Singing songs to still my heart Anything for you to learn. Beating coldly in the silence Here he comes at night a-pacing Wishing happiness would start. Outside my bedroom door. And the hissing of the crickets Keys a-jingling and a-jangling -An alarming sound from hell­ Falling sharply on the floor. Wishing not to wake at dawning Cautious words Wishing there's nothing at all to tell. or questions asked by her Are never taken light In the silence of the evening Came a quickly spoken fight. Doors are banged without compassion To the whole world sleeping still Always waking, never resting Just a-lying here until 47 p e n n y s e h a s

B e l 0 w

She cries all day, all alone. She has no place to call her home. Searches for love ... searches for hope, class notes, But not finding it she cannot cope. anecdotes, She knows not what to do, or what to conversations, say- odd relations, Only that she cannot go on another day. religion, Money there is none - Food is hard to precision, find, friends, Looking around she sees a world so latest trends, unkind. romance, For so many pass her by; some even look chance, into her face, instruction, But she knows, to them, she's just destruction, another case. possibilities, Realizing her state, she lets go of any calamities, hope that remains; things received, for her strength can no longer bare with times deceived, these pains. family ties, The time had come - it was time to go. a loved one dies, Where she'd end up she did not know. nights spent crying, Gone from this world she found love thoughts of dying, And the grace of the Lord above. steamy affairs, Misery became a word she did not know, silent prayers, Unless, of course, she was looking down favorite song, below. things gone wrong, confusion, delusion, desperate measures, immoral pleasures, falling asleep, falling ... Bedtime Thoughts 48 Penny Sehas Is It Right?

Is it right? No, but she could not help having these feelings for him. He was an intelligent, caring, funny person who also happened to be quite handsome. She spent every night fantasizing about things that she knew would always be just fantasy. When Maria saw him she felt embarrassed, as if he knew very well what she had been thinking about the previous night. Of course that was silly though. As far as the object of her affection knew, Maria was this wonderful girl that looked up to him. It had gone too far now. Maria was spending too much time in a world where she could show this man how sexy she thought he was. To make things worse, she felt guilty. Every time the girl saw him, she felt like she had betrayed him. She wasn't being honest about her feelings, and Maria found something wrong with that. There was also the fact that she knew he would not want her to pursue her feelings in any way. He was happy with the way things were, and there was no reason for him not to be. They had a great relationship that was not often found in their situation. There's something else you need to know if you are going to understand why Maria's attraction could not lead to anything. She wasn't simply attracted to a neighbor or a friend of a friend. She wanted to experience things that parents keep their children from seeing or hearing about when they are really young with a man that had already vowed to spend the rest of his life with someone; a man that she had a professional relationship with. Deciding that it was only fair for him to know what was going on, Maria told Nick about her attraction to him. She thought he would be surprised, and she was right. He was at a loss for words for a minute or two, but he found words that were appropriate and comforting. Nick reminded her that he was married and that they already had a great relationship. He told her that he saw a lot of potential in her and that she was a wonderful person, but it was impossible for their relationship to be a romantic one. After that, he told her something else. Nick said that if Maria's feelings got in the way of their current relationship, he would have to put an end to it. Maria told him that she understood, and that was the truth. Maria realized something when she left Nick's office. She thought about how important her relationship with him was to her. She characterized as involving respect, concern, trust, honesty, and humor. She had come to feel a bond with him; for he had helped her to discover a lot about who she was and who she wanted to become. Maria owed him a lot, and the least she could do was respect his wish for her to try to end these wants of hers. Maria spent the next few weeks thinking about everything Nick had said to her that day in his office. She reminded herself that it was morally wrong for her to be willing to carry on an affair with Nick. She thought about how her life would change if he no longer spoke to her when he saw her - no more words of wisdom, laughs brought on by jokes and sarcastic remarks, or simple but meaningful hellos and good-byes. Maria could not bare 49 with that kind of loss. She told herself over and over that she could not continue thinking about Nick the way she had been. Whenever an p inappropriate thought popped into her mind, she would quickly think about something else. It was hard at first, and Maria ended up fooling herself into believing that she was over him. Finally, she found the answer. Maria went to church to speak to God about her situation. Yes, she could have tried this at e home, and she did several times, but it wasn't the same. In church she felt peaceful. She listened to the Mass and stayed behind when it was over. Maria told God that she wanted to go back to the way things were with Nick. She asked Him to help her do the right thing; to give her the strength to overcome her feelings. She talked to Him for an hour or so, and then left to go home. On her way there, she reflected on everything and believed that God n_ would get her through this. She had felt better already - maybe because God had actually spoken to her in His own way, or maybe because she fancied that he did. Whatever it was, it worked. Little by little Maria let go of her desires. She realized that it doesn't necessarily take physical passion for a relationship y to be passionate, and that there is something special about a relationship that can survive when one person begins to want what the other cannot give. You should know that she stills finds Nick attractive. As she says, "He just is. To force yourself to stop seeing the beauty in one of God's creatures is wrong." s Is It Right L t s t e n e

Listen to me and listen well. Dig beneath the surface. h Figure out what I'm not telling you because that is whaes important. Forget what I have said and a remember what I have failed to say. Search for clues - they do exist. Release me from this prison. s Only you can do this. I know you can if you try. Bring out the real me. And do it soon. Do it soon so I can release you from your prison. 50 p e n n y s e h a s Not Knowing Not knowing what's to come, Not knowing whose to blame, After a while you realize that you can Not knowing where's she's from, lose and Not knowing a little fame, still be a winner ... All that's left is fright, And that success requires dedication and And of course curiosity. time She tries with all her might but it's worth it ... To find some generosity. And you realize that there is something to Out of the millions that pass her by, be Only one stops to show concern. learned every minute ... Overwhelmed by His presence she begins And that there is a lot of good in every to cry, person ... Although His features she cannot discern. After a while you realize that being kind Not clear on what was going on for its She asks but gets no reply. own sake pays off... A glance again and He's gone, And that suffering can make your life so No longer visible to her eyes. much Sobbing, she slowly starts to stand. more meaningful. .. And when nearly falling, He reaches out And you realize that you do, in fact, have his hand. a lot to be thankful for ... This man she could see; a face glowing And that the people who have influenced with light. your life Her closeness to Him removes all of her the most are still in your life ... fright. After a while you realize that you can He had come to fill her heart with a love make positive true and real- changes because you are you ... One that would never cease, for it is And so you think about all of these bound with a seal. realizations and make a few final realizations ... You realize that your life is worth living ... You realize that you have a lot to forward to ... You realize that you should be happy with being you! Realizations 51 Shannon Sullivan D t s s 0 l u t i o n

Not knowing what will happen Where I'll be next year. Not knowing if I am in fact Ready for whatever it is. Not knowing whether I'll get to do That before I'm married with children. Not knowing if I'll figure that out While there's still time. Not knowing if I will be able to Afford all of my plans, goals. All fears dissolve into one­ Not knowing whether he still Not knowing Wants me, to spend forever with me. Not knowing whether they tease Not knowing if I will ever reorganize my Me out of love or hate. thoughts Not knowing ifl can After spewing them rapidly on a sheet of Complete it all in time. paper. Not knowing how long Not knowing if I have any Before he kissed me that night. Right to be this scared. Not knowing how he'd react Before I approached first. Not knowing whether anyone would Have noticed if I'd chosen to die. Not knowing if I'm involved enough, Ready to really live. Not knowing how and whether I can Leave my mark. Not knowing whether he loves me As much as I him. Not knowing which career Will maximize my future joy. Not knowing how to balance well Family, religion, career, school- life. Not knowing when or how I'll die when God decides the time is right. Not knowing whether he's The ONE. Not knowing if I'm prepared For whatever comes, goes. 52 David Tango Luck Is All You Need

I took a glance at my watch, 11:45. I thought to myself, it's time. The chance for me to finally make something out of my life was coming up in just a few short minutes and I did not want to be late. I met my partner in crime, Dr. Gerry Grind, in the lobby of our hotel. No words were spoken between the two of us, except for a greeting or two, as we walked down the block to Sharky's. We both knew how big the next few hours were going to be, and we both knew what we had to do. We sat at our designated table. I ordered a 7 &7, Dr. Grind had a tangeray martini. I was nervous and very tense, and still not a word was spoken between Dr. Grind and myself. Mr. Blanc, a.k.a. Mr. Big, walked over to us with a Kool-Aid smile on his face. "Good day gentlemen," he said. "Where are they," I replied. "They should be arriving momentarily Mr. Beats." "As far as I'm concerned they're dead whether or not they decide to show up." "Whatever you say Mr. Beats." he was obviously shaken by what I just said. Dr. Grind finally broke the silence. "Hey, Dave, if these suckers don't show up I'm not gonna be a happy camper if you get my drift." "Relax Gerry," I replied. "Like I said before as far as I'm concerned they're dead no matter what. Now drink your martini and concentrate on the task at hand." The room was filled with smoke, so I lit a Dunhill to make matters worse. Dr. Grind did the same. There were about 1000 people in Sharky's and all eyes were on us. That did not bother me much. I have been doing this sort of thing in different hell­ holes all over the world for years. But this place was the nicest that I had ever been in. I took another pull from my cigarette to ease the tension , and glanced around the room. All of the big shots were there. I saw Rascally Rick, Fabulous Fixter, Frank the Reneger, Dan the man, the Bulgarian Princess, Bonnie the Queen of Spades, Tic Tack Tongue, Johnny the Greek, and Rady the Mad Bomber. You see this one was for all of the marbles. If we succeed in pulling this one off tonight people will be talking about how big a score ti was for the next fifty years. It was not going to be easy, though, considering the fact that all of the before mentioned big shots and old timers were there. They have been dealing with guys like us since this whole thing started. Never the less, bot Gerry and I thought that it was at least worth a shot. What the hell, when you have nothing you have nothing to lose. You are probably asking yourself right now what my occupation is. Most people usually guess mobster or career criminal. I am actually a little bit of both. I am a card shark and I have been robbing and swindling people our of their money for ten years now. But tonight was special. I had never seen this much money before, and I knew that I would probably never get a chance to see anything close to it again. It was my destiny to have that much money, and I was not going to let anything stand between the money and Gerry and 53 me tonight. We were playing the toughest game of all: spades. And tonight Dr. Grind and myself are playing for the world championship of spades, and also for one million dollars each. But we were also playing for the respect that we deserve and aren't getting. Every card shark plays as much for respect as they do for money, and Gerry and I are no different. "Dave, I'm getting worried. Where the hell are these idiots?" "Gerry, they are simply stalling to try to psych us out. It's the oldest trick in the book. Now for Christ's sake would you relax. Bartender, another round, and hurry it up." I sipped my drink while Gerry downed his. Poor old boy, I hope he I holds up during the game. He's usually a very calm fellow. Here they come now. s "Hey Gerry, look who finally decided to show up. Marvelous Moe and the Cuban Missile Willie Lau, how's it going fellas? And by the way, it was _A_ really nice of you guys to show up for your beating," I said rather arrogantly. "It's always a pleasure gentlemen," Moe replied. 1 "Who are we kidding here Moe? You guys don't like us and we flat out hate both of you," Gerry said. He seemed calm and confident now, and I 1 seemed to be getting tenser by the minute. "You boys ready to get smacked up," Willie yelled. "You;re the one thaes going to get smacked the hell up if you don;t sit -Y­ your ass down and shut your mouth, bitch," I screamed back at him. "Yeah, Dave. Do you want to take this outside?" he shouted C=> back. "Let's go," I said without hesitation. Moe and Gerry jumped in and broke it up, and told us to save it for the game. "You are real lucky Dave that they jumped in 'cause I was just ~ about to kick your ass.;; "Thanks a lot, Willie. I was so scared. But let's be honest here, ~ Willie. You and I both k..'1.ow that you are nothing but a freaking Mary. ~ So sit down and deal the cards." cl I was confident and jacked up after my altercation with Willie. We lost to these guys last year in the semifinals, but there was no way in hell that we were going to lose again. Gerry, on the other hand, was his usual cool self. The cards were dealt, and Gerry and I looked up at each other with looks of astonishment and disgust on our faces. I though to myself, oh no, here we go again. It was like last year's game all over again. The next few hands weren't any better and we were down 100 points before we even kn~w it. And all of a sudden the confidence and fire that I had just a few minutes ago were gone. Gerry still had the look of confidence in his eyes. I, on the other hand, was about to throw a chair through the window. Not only was I becoming more 54

frustrated by the minute, but by now I was angry, and all card players know that D anger spells defeat. We were about midway through the game and both Gerry and I knew that we were being humiliated. We needed a spark to ignite our comeback. But most a of all, we needed a lot of help from Lady Luck. The cards were dealt. I finally had a hand that I could do some V damage with, but I was still fuming from the last couple of hands. I__ "Gerry, how's it looking over there?" "Not too shabby. How 'bout yourself, Dave?" 1 I could only think of one word to answer him with: banging. The cards were played. I thought to myself, it's about time that we win one. C::: cl I had not been paying close attention to the table for most of the game "1 _ because I was so busy yelling and hanging my head in my hands, but this -"-- hand was different. I watched every move that Moe and Willie made. Both of them had notorious reputations as cheaters and tonight they were doing a good job living up to their reputations. But I knew that if they I T tried to cheat this game I would catch them. They had such a big lead that they were starting to get overconfident. I now knew that if they were S going to win that the responsibility was solely on my shoulders. a Moe tossed out a card. I looked down at the table, and then my partner. Something didn't feel right. I was almost positive that the fl reneged. Almost positive, but not one hundred percent sure. He sat in his _A_ chair with a big smile on his face. That meant nothing to me, though, 1 because he always smiled every time he won a book. I had a decision to g make. Should I call a renege or should I let it go? 1 I had a million things running through my head just then, and the C> all had George Washington's face on them. What if I was wrong? What if I couldn't pick the book? What if I picked the wrong book? I was in a position to single-handedly win the game for us, that is if I was right. But if I was ~ wrong my mistake would have assured Moe and Willie of another victory. My brain was so cluttered that I decided to listen to my heard, and my heart told me C:> that he reneged. So I called him out. I said, "hey, Moe, you just reneged." "Oh, yeah? Then pick the book," he replied. I glanced over all of his books, and I still was not sure which one to pick. I decided to go book by book instead. It thought to myself was it the first book? No, too easy. How about the second? I don't think so, too obvious. Maybe it ...... 1 was the third? Na, I know that he shuffled the books more than that. Then I _L ~ came to the fourth book. I don't know how to explain it, but something told me ~ to turn this one over. So I turned over the fourth book, and sure enough I was '-­ right. This event was definitely the spark that we needed, and because of it the (:! momentum shifted our way. That gave us the boost that we needed to win the game and avenge our loss from last year. The word champs has a nice ring to it, cl and the money isn't bad either. 55 David Tango Luck Is All You Need

I came through in the clutch, and believe me, nothing feels better than that. We are finally number one, and I owe it all to my gut feeling. Most people ask how I did it. They ask how I knew which book to pick. I would like to tell them that I'm just that good, but if I did that then I would be lying. I usually tell them that sometimes in cards, as well as in life, luck alone can be enough to get you by.

J 0 s e p h w h 1 t e . C r e a t t V e it says "Creative", yet I don't know why why did I remove my finger-tip with a cigar-cutter? well, we are who we are, aren't we? and isn't it our responsibility to be creative? 56 Joseph White I Hope That Something in Me Lives On Through You

you have the first ten pages or so you have music you have a veritable laundry list I just heard an amazing song that didn't remind me of you it is great to be making memories without you, now you complemented me at all of the wrong moments you fed my paranoia and my obsessive nature you made me idiot-type-person (bad) you have many things cereal boxes that contained so much more you have notions you have ideals you have things that need to be done not with me (good?) you have essence, your computer (you) is working more often than not you had a beautiful body but looking back and forward at pictures it isn't right your body doesn't have that glow your smile does not have that charm that made me love it more than anything your hair seems really dirty although it emanates a gorgeous bouquet (origins: shampoo-- I'm a sucker) looking at your eyes now in these pictures you look messed up you looked drugged out you look lost you look immature (not the good kind, though) can this work for you better than before? can this admit of anything? what is right to you and what is right to me, well, let's see, that's a moot point I will speak of many things, regarding you, in the next century, the next millenium. I will dream of things we did together good things things that make me want something that is ridiculous (I DO see that) you will pursue other exploits possibly brilliant ones that I have told you that you are capable of you don't see my vision of you maybe you should not, maybe you truly need to make your own mistakes I have told myself that time and time again 57 although ... here's an idea ... I would love to make them for you! I wish I could spare you although I am convinced that I do not feel for you (and I have done quite a good job of convincing everyone else the same) I still feel this paternal instinct, I guess there was a place on a road we would stop exchange I love you-s lean over kiss sometimes it would be better than other times often when you were upset with me the light would be green and we would not have to stop but the times when you met my lips with yours and formally introduced them I felt that gust of wind on my doors and dove head-first into dangerous territory vulnerable- yeah, you could say that I still have trouble hitting that light evert time I stop I pray for green and it turns and I feel like you are upset with me although the music is too loud and smoke fills everything and ash has cluttered the instruments and rattling and chugging-chugging-chugging from the front I am allowed another night of evasion I am not whisked away and I am OK about not missing you even though that seat, though it might be warmed, can never be filled. 58 It's Pretty Easy To Get Knocked Right Out of the Running

when I was young(er) I would run after my father we would never frolic our plans rarely reached fruition and the girl who shared his bed often held the staff his throne weak; the cushion often tattered

I would run after him, but he was pretty damn quick always winning the race well, most of the time once in a while I would give him a run for the money the money neither of us ever had

I would often wonder whether or not he let me win you know, the ego-boost that every little scamp needs so sorely from his pop either way, and for no adequately explore·d reason, I loved him we looked alike in many ways I was told that although I had my mother's nose and forehead, the rest belonged to my father

years went by so amazingly fast an incredible amount of things happened words cracking up machines acting as the bearers of horrible tidings apathy

I still run, more now than ever I guess part of me is trying to take off those extra pounds that none of us are too fond of part of me is trying to come up with a way to achieve balance (in other words, justify my smoking) but I know that I run because I am still trying to catch my father and, perhaps if I am very lucky, he will one day, again, let me win Joseph White 59 Joseph White I was told to marry you the other day someone told me that you and I should be wed you know, tie the knot? I thought it was funny but you were in love with me for longer than I knew I am amazed at how you dealt with that all of our late night talks about others you wanted me, I guess butterflies everywhere except for inside my stomach it has been too long, dear friend I will look past everything else that drives you from me the sentiments I have so adamantly expressed I will not deny them, but every truth has its exceptions and you have a place right here

(pointing to heart)

Made To Be Silent in the Room play upon screens that yield no games they bring solipsism, for we are the only ones hitting they breed autonomy, because at the gates we are islands they deliver prizes, which separate us more than anything they dole out spankings, for the ones who deserve the act, punished for the act, bred to be perfect actors our transgressions make us more than we think rather, our mistakes make us the people we need to be rather my mistakes led me to you rather, your mistakes, in turn, made you need me 60 Missing in Action I feel like you are missing in action yet I know perfectly well where you are most likely who you are with and what you are doing you have been out of focus for a good long time I have been very well, thank you I am still surrounded by superfluous people (I can hear you laughing) I am still in love with little, in like with much, and angst-ridden over about the same my hair, well, is about the same you are, indeed, missing in action, though not that that is particularly bad or anything just something that I noticed your plans will not include me nor will they work, in my increasingly never humble opinion but you still have a reserved table don't worry about that I am not promising that I will join you or anything just know that there will always be a table with a little cardboard card folded in half so it stands strong with your name on it for you when you get back from whatever war you decide to fight in 61 Joseph White On A Moore High

I've come to the conclusion that there are no "little things" in the world anymore. Everything that we do is huge, but nobody sees this. I sincerely cannot find one thing in our day to day activities that doesn't have an impact on a greater entity or issue: This can be quite funny if we appreciate the ironies that surround us. It's amazing to me that people, upon seeing Nike commercials, don't riot in the streets, turning over every Foot Locker and Athlete's Foot in America. It is funny to see young women pronouncing their freedom and their newfound will to "just do it", even though young women in Indonesia are being raped of their freedom to produce those very shoes that those "uppity women" in the commercials are so proud to don. It's all pretty funny to me. So, I hereby encourage all of you to go to Kane's every night, to smoke your weed, to drink 40's of OE, and go quietly into that good night every night. Just ask yourself, "will the rapist still respect me in the morning?" 62

J 0 s e p h w h 1 t e is it OK to enjoy silly things about the fall? I especially enjoy how, when you are cold, you feel slimmer you feel cooler than normal I guess it's because we breathe clean air when we are cold we breathe fresh air even in a city, where a car's ass can be your demise, you will breathe fresh, clean air on a cold day I promise, you'll feel great just suck it all up into your lungs take it in relish a new, thinner you embrace how better you feel and, after all, this is what we have left to enjoy, because there have already been enough poems about the changing of the leaves so that one doesn't actually have to experience thing itself you can just pick up a book, and read about how great the world out there is, without actually having to live

0 k t 0 b e r One Solitary Hundred

it's chilly, you know I could never take the bliss for granted as I set the stage and hours of love that we would wish to make, never exist and beauty leads to rage. so let us not remember anything, and take to our grave what we've seen today. let those who wish to laugh and then to sing, pull off our garments every string and fray. I will count out and make the rattles chime, as the money advances, change the game. I will show you yours if you show me mine, and we'll pretend that childhoods are the same. so let yourself go into that abyss, as your fake sun I surrender a kiss.