Phillip D. Neal • Orpheus Aimee C. Nezhu·kumatathil • Lightning Bug Wine ·Mark Glover • Kaliedoscop~c Walk Alex Mark Glove Mosaic aptive Phill Undergraduate Art and Literature Magazine Sean Schne1 er • ng 1s ass 1chael Rauburn • Birthday Morning Rebecca M. Cook• The Observatory Steven Jost • A Burial Denied To Suicides James Tomas • Grandpappa's Good Suit Philip Bump •. Hierarchy Of the Demolition Man Marina Sbrochi • Living It Cheryl Honingford • Itchy the Sucker Mark Sumner• A Loss Of Hearing Aimee C. Nezh·ukumatathil • Juliet Ruminates In Pink Courtney Stewart• A Cab Ride Confession James Tomas • Sunset Mark Glover • The Local Superheroes Steven Jost • Wandering Grounds Adam Gray • Muliebrity Melissa Miller • Masek Mosaic Literature Section TABLE OF CONTENTS FOREWORD Mosaic is a magazine created from the efforts and contributions of ,.... Philip Bump many. Several visions and perspectives come together to create one final Phillip D. Neal 9_.., 0 Hierarchy Of the Demolition Man 2. Orpheus production. This year's format is a departure from recent years, but change is not uncommon in the magazine's eighteen-year history. The size, layout, and Aimee C. Nezhukumatathil L"1S Marina Sbrochi direction of the magazine have changed frequently, reflecting the changing 4 Lightning Bug Wine L Livinglt perspectives of the undergraduate student staffs and contributors. The flexibility in form and content makes Mosaic an even more significant outlet for the talent and inspiration of undergraduate students at the Ohio State Mark Glover 1._") ~ Cheryl Honigford Z.... Itchy the Sucker University. ;:, Kaleidoscopic Walk ~ Mosaic has many event~ throughout the year which reflect its goals of '""' / Mark Sumner providing a forum for authors and artists, and enhancing the opportunities / Alexander Robinson '-'"" \...''"'\ A Loss Of Hearing and climate at OSU. Events include an art show, poetry and fiction readings, 0 Saxofall and the unveiling of the annual magazine. Such a widespread, yearlong Aimee C. Nezhukumatathil effort would be impossible without a great deal of support. The Student Mark Glover 3 f Juliet Ruminates ln Pink Events Committee co-sponsored the art show for the fourth year, and helped 1.. 0 Fires finance the AlbertJ. Kuhn Awards for Excellence. Our faculty advisors Courtney Stewart assisted Mosaic again this year, particularly David Citino, who gave a reading Dan McKean 38 A Cab Ride Confession autumn quarter and who is always ready to offer advice and assistance. The 1.1. Captive "Friends of Mosaic" are due many thanks, both for their financial support and their belief that Mosaic is a worthwhile and unique publication. Our advisor ""1 James Tomas this year, Arienne McCracken, has brought an enthusiastic and fresh view to Phillip D. Neal 4 0 Sunset 18 Snow Angel Mosaic. She has been wonderful to work with, and has offered helpful criticisms and insights to the organization. The University Honors Center is Mark Glover central to the success of Mosaic. For the entire history of Mosaic, the Honors 9 ·) Sean Schneider 4 The Local Superheroes ........, \,.., English Class 4 Center has supported and enhanced the magazine, allowing it to develop into its present form. All these supporters are due the most exquisite thanks r- Steven Jost and appreciation, and hopefully Mosaic will continue to be worthy of their O Michael Rayburn 4 ~ Wandering Grounds support. Z- 0 Birthday Morning Without the talent and interest of our contributing artists and authors AdamGray there would be no magazine. It is therefore the contributors- all L..., Rebecca M. Cook / o 0 Muliebrity undergraduates, representing many areas of study- who deserve the greatest Z....LThe Observatory 4 thanks for making Mosaic a successful publication. / Melissa Miller Thank you for making another year possible. ,.., Steven Jost 0 OO Masck L .J A Burial Denied To Suicides Cara McCoy Publisher /Editor 1.") ;{ James Tomas 6 J Author Biographies LT Grandpappa's Good Suit e ORPHEUS • PHILLIP D. NEAL We mark the dawn And the twig-boats in red-traced ripples, dance in their circles, dropping our twigs and despite the emptiness, to the water, sail on. to race in the thawing light. Distant, the mist crouches over the green-tasseled hills, spilling down to the water's edge like slow morning whispers sucked dry of color. Our homeland is a forgotten dock, and the first sunbeams kiss our foreheads like a maternal rousing; the lapping tides caress our naked toes. We are fathers to each other in this silence; two freckled boys intent upon snapped-off fragments of oak; two small bodies pressed against warm wood; two limpid souls in the hush before reality can be discerned from among the fog-drawn shadows. WINNER OF THE 1995 ALBERT]. KUHN AWARD FOR EXCELLENCE IN WRITING, POETRY Mosaic Mosaic e e LIGHTNING BUG WINE • A. NEZHUKUMATATHIL KALEIDOSCOPIC WALK • MARK GLOVER walking on windowsills From pretty posed until i've retraced pony tails his footsteps a thousand times jammed cool yellow bones of words do not say yes drinking jim dandies until those clocks on some honey-sugared wall read enough to say good-bye to sky slung still, i laugh nuclear when strawberry stained lips neon candies smack my gum in his hand sidewalk diamonds 'cuz i can clench his heart anytime i want, out front of bars but faked lightning bug paths lay in veins just don't settle well inside of me. tossed from cars we too convey a million meanings with just one look-­ Look, this ledge underneath quivers till the blind munchkin's like a belly under new love. mad candy cane red water seeped up some strange stairwell; seems strange tap taps the flood never came ... all i'm seeing is a sky that lingers against my brain between my Budapest but her shrine entails nothing more than a spoonful of magic dust collected behind my dresser-­ decades of wine-colored bliss. foreboding glimmers, flecks of stone wink at them on that road traversed a million laughs ago. Mosaic e SAXOFALL• ALEXANDER ROBINSON Myhand He wanted to save some for him Torn and beaten And for the next night Outstretched And the next one ... His fingers danced up and down But the veins in his wrists Around and around Running along his weathered hands The pearl covered keys Down his long loose fingers As the sweat poured down his chiseled brow Prominently stood Up through his skin His face Making his struggle known So con tarted Demonstrating his exertion Strained His battle Drowned in sweat as thick as blood His war To hold back and save something for himself He poured all his life His soul Myhand Into the golden chamber Torn and beaten The long hollow horn Outstretched Which hung loosely from his charcoaled neck Reached for his brow /-shaped Out of the darkness Intricate Into the chalky spotlight Embellished with lengths of gold That was his aura Terminating in pieces of pearl And his light Unceasingly caressed by calloused fingertips To release him To console him He squeezed the keys so tightly To wipe his brow Like he was trying to strangle the air flowing from between his moist lips Of the life that oozed down his ghostly face In side those golden chambers . The blackness in that chalky light To prevent all that h~ was from flowing out into the blackness of the smoky air But Which lingered The darkness was too thick Hovering above his dazed expression His soul was too thick And throughout every inch of the nightclub's four walls His struggle was his own Holding back He blew on He couldn't give it to them A slow lazy drag Not all of it The notes Not yet Deep and low Mosaic Mosaic Stumbled from, He blew on Dragged from his deepest corners Those hidden places He swayed back and forth That he never gave words On uncertain legs Or air to speak them Weary Lost They made their way Alone Through the golden chamber A few escaping here and there Myhand Where his fingers let the keys stand open Torn and beaten Bending at the waist Outstretched Arching forward Reached out Till the horn hung flat against the floor From the darkness He poured the notes onto the st_age . Into the chalky light Into the full white moon that circled him at his feet To steady him They hung from the lip of the horn To lend him support As long as they could To lay him down Not wishing to show themselves And carry him home Naked To pry the horn from his hands To the peering eyes To save something for him Which looked on through the smoke Before he gave himself all away But They hung for dear life He was too heavy Afraid to reveal themselves His swaying body eluded my grasp Afraid to be misunderstood He didn't want to be saved But He didn't want to be saved He pushed them on . Until he stood in a pool of himself Which quickly rose to his neck And tried to strangle him To take his breath To keep him from giving anymore . ic e FIRES • MARKGLOVER CAPTIVE • DAN MCKEAN The saguaros, looking like Helen, he drove toward Sasabe, a The matchstick men bemused robbery victims, dot the small town on the Mexican border, to press desert, belying the premise that hunt for rattlesnakes. Their skins the stale sweat nothing can live here. The sun casts supplemented the meager pension of barley an orange glow over the desolate that Bud received. He'd been there between bloated lips land, turning the sand and scrub into once before, when he volunteered for in the house a blanket of shimmering gold and the service with the U.S.