+3 THIRD NIGHT VIRUS «Ia/m Min-Ml I sleep in two—hour shifts Like Hemingway on a train A\\'akened by a toothache His memories flushed By female lions and termites, Poor soldier and swami. My nose drips. eyes sting. I runembcr malaria. Its strenuous body pain And fevers. the deliria Of youth when... Show more+3 THIRD NIGHT VIRUS «Ia/m Min-Ml I sleep in two—hour shifts Like Hemingway on a train A\\'akened by a toothache His memories flushed By female lions and termites, Poor soldier and swami. My nose drips. eyes sting. I runembcr malaria. Its strenuous body pain And fevers. the deliria Of youth when each dream “"215 a delicious nightmare And [11 bamth more caustic Than gin and tonic Show less
ANOREXIC MYSTIC Swyw KIM/3k} i look myself up and down in the mirror in the bathroom. i have a nerotic bionic eye; it scans for bones protruding. it seeks out yellow teeth and rotten guts from underuse, my skin is under dressed, it hangs limply as my breasts once swollen with womanly pride Now i... Show moreANOREXIC MYSTIC Swyw KIM/3k} i look myself up and down in the mirror in the bathroom. i have a nerotic bionic eye; it scans for bones protruding. it seeks out yellow teeth and rotten guts from underuse, my skin is under dressed, it hangs limply as my breasts once swollen with womanly pride Now i wish this image to be skeletal; a fractal fraction ofa beauty, a framework ofboiled down bits of synthetic skins; oil slick, American Bitch. i want a well tanned hide to match these well tanned pants, stretched and wrapped around my tight stretched ass, a famished vein with a famished Caress, i have a crooked hunch to match this crooked grin, i sing the martyred faintly Good Friday Hymn: give me my bones! my white and popping beauty bones. let this lustre fade, my eyes and hair inherit grey. open these wounds, flex them in the sun! i want boiled down flesh as boiled down truth Absolute Soup, Abscessing Tooth. i hate the way i pick apart every piece of my shorn and starving body, i want to be Twiggy, i want to be Barbie; a poppy paralytic clawing through subcuten red white and blue the anorexic mystic, a quadroon Jew. but i can't stop it; i won’t. i love it i do. i dig it, i am it, i live it it's true. i am the noose, the cross, the crotch, devoid of my shrift, i am the fill/[Ed [um/1. and at this radium core is the finished race of more; the altruistic puss, a clean—picked shrivel ofa saintly whore. "Pain," 4-6 Show less
L x :.,;,s.om.i Murphy Square Park Augsburg College is a diverse, faith-based learning community in the heart of the city that transforms indi- vidual interests, gifts, and talents into opportunities to work, lead, and serve in the world. Through a rigorous blending ofclassroom learning, one—on... Show moreL x :.,;,s.om.i Murphy Square Park Augsburg College is a diverse, faith-based learning community in the heart of the city that transforms indi- vidual interests, gifts, and talents into opportunities to work, lead, and serve in the world. Through a rigorous blending ofclassroom learning, one—on—one mentoring, and real-world experience, Augsburg's liberal arts and sciences curricula challenge students from diverse religious, cultural. ethnic, and experiential backgrounds through research, study and service opportunities Affiliated with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, Augsburg serves the wide-ranging needs ofmore than 3,000 students in day, weekend. and graduate programs. 73 Show less
rasped she; the gentle gentile American Mystic I love it, I dig it, I am it. I live it. "pain" gasped she, my peeling onion misery muse; alone, obtusely gaunting panting, chanting, the scriptured vertical vertebrae of a thinning subtraction, my obsessing mathematician, a wasting addiction tick... Show morerasped she; the gentle gentile American Mystic I love it, I dig it, I am it. I live it. "pain" gasped she, my peeling onion misery muse; alone, obtusely gaunting panting, chanting, the scriptured vertical vertebrae of a thinning subtraction, my obsessing mathematician, a wasting addiction tick—tock tick—tock tick—tock, stop. Show less
ASIAN FEET Sama/I/Im ll ] [ff/16’” American women laugh, At the women ofother cultures, And the things they do to be beautiful. They laugh — Past Crest White Strip bleached teeth, Through Max Factor Berry Beautgflll painted lips, Between perfectly manicured Just Peat/1y polished nails. They laugh... Show moreASIAN FEET Sama/I/Im ll ] [ff/16’” American women laugh, At the women ofother cultures, And the things they do to be beautiful. They laugh — Past Crest White Strip bleached teeth, Through Max Factor Berry Beautgflll painted lips, Between perfectly manicured Just Peat/1y polished nails. They laugh at African women. \Vho wear rings to elongate their necks, \Veights to lengthen their ear lobes, Disks to widen their mouths. They laugh at Asian women. \Vho powder their skin white, And bind their feet To keep them from growing, Keep them dainty, Keep them small. American women sit, ln trendy, upscale restaurants, Drinking bottled imported spring water, Eating lettuce leaves, And popping diet pills, \Vhile they trade the phone numbers, Of those important people in their lives. The stylists, \Vho bleach, Cut, Dye, Perm, Straighten, Highlight, Hot oil And transform their hair Into perfectly fried, Clone-like locks. The physicians, Who prescribe uppers, Downers, Tranquilizers, Antidepressants, Prozac, Epinephrine, Fen—phen, Ritalin, Botox And Viagra. Anything and everything that will change them. Improve them. Stop them from being that person in the mirror. That girl they barely remember, But still despise. And those wonderful surgeons, Who so kindly tear their flesh open, Stuff plastic bags of cancerous material inside, And sew them back together. Giving them perky, grapefruit sized breasts Long after they've forgotten what to do with them. American women laugh at, The women of other cultures. 54- Show less
l‘ A], 5H;- 4 +uic cam {074 3‘2 34 35 36 37 38 39 John Mitchell Colin lrvine Alisa Hoven Emily Jensen Teddy Fabel Ryan Sobolik Claire Pettry Anthony Rathai DE. Green Sara Beth Olson Anthony Rathai Choua Yang Darby Lorents Jenny \Vheatley Jeff Moores Laura Eliason Amy Barnhorst Carolyn Herman... Show morel‘ A], 5H;- 4 +uic cam {074 3‘2 34 35 36 37 38 39 John Mitchell Colin lrvine Alisa Hoven Emily Jensen Teddy Fabel Ryan Sobolik Claire Pettry Anthony Rathai DE. Green Sara Beth Olson Anthony Rathai Choua Yang Darby Lorents Jenny \Vheatley Jeff Moores Laura Eliason Amy Barnhorst Carolyn Herman Sarah Aune Katherine Koziol Graham Petersburg Sarah Gilbert Jeremy Anderson Darby Lorents Heather Hillman Ryan Sobolik Sarah Aune John Ricker Jeremy Anderson Sarah Aune John Mitchell Madeline Nyvold Angela Olson Sarah Aune Sara Beth Olson iii CONTENTS Foreword The Short Happy Life of the Novelist Jump Autumn Day First Time Blade Together for Perhaps an Hour Self Portrait 2!: A Thursday in November Rain Door to Nowhere lievin Costner Nearly Killed Me Killing Time Postadoleseent Idealism Memorial Staring Contest Easter Flovvers Girl Haiku Leaf Meditation Still Life 5 Movements ofa Drunken Alien Bathhouse On the Streets ofSan Salvador Aquatic Dichotoniy Green A Sunday Afternoon The Passing Light Chipset Boulevard Vinyl Dumbo Abstract The Arena of the Prose Poem Critique \Vliite Tara: Tibetan Goddess Autumn School Cigarette Circle Crossview Show less
AUTUMN SCHOOL CIGARETTE CIRCLE Earn/J Aime Spotlight on grease—stained cement Cigarette butts congregate Creaking doors and spirits, To the balcony. The last fly on the screen Shudders to sense death on the breeze. Its first change of‘season, Since hatching from larvae, Maybe last too. Fliclting... Show moreAUTUMN SCHOOL CIGARETTE CIRCLE Earn/J Aime Spotlight on grease—stained cement Cigarette butts congregate Creaking doors and spirits, To the balcony. The last fly on the screen Shudders to sense death on the breeze. Its first change of‘season, Since hatching from larvae, Maybe last too. Fliclting ashes, The girls waste away, \Vaste right away in many ways. Cold toes in flip-Hops On hard ground. Stiff breeze up pastel pant—legs And down the low—cut tees. Cold eye contact, Acquaintances yet strangers, Parading repetitively ln fateful dancer 3 8 Show less
COTI'ON CANDY A I {mm Ne/xo/I As sweet as your love has always been. and as frequently as I return for more of your addicting intimacy, I am beginning to feel that you and your tempting sensuality, are somewhat like freshly spun cotton candy. But my hands are wet with tears, so with each dripping... Show moreCOTI'ON CANDY A I {mm Ne/xo/I As sweet as your love has always been. and as frequently as I return for more of your addicting intimacy, I am beginning to feel that you and your tempting sensuality, are somewhat like freshly spun cotton candy. But my hands are wet with tears, so with each dripping trip back for more of you, I am creating an even bigger mess. And as I lick the residue of‘you ol'l“ of my sticky fingers, I remember the simplicity before the pain. When it was just good, clean, love. AMSTERDAM'S APRIL .S'arab Ci/be/‘l Plump flowers tease bees, like obscene pouty nymphets taunt buzzed business men. 6+ Show less
BATH HOUSE tiara/J Ci/[m'f Slap, slap, Russian feet smack Russian tiles mmm voices spill from Russian mouths Angry hellos bouncing across sauna walls and up 5,10, 20 stairs to different sounds Men clothed in tiny Speedos partake of the blowjob booths Banya-style. \\'e sit, Ana, Zhenia, Ryan and I... Show moreBATH HOUSE tiara/J Ci/[m'f Slap, slap, Russian feet smack Russian tiles mmm voices spill from Russian mouths Angry hellos bouncing across sauna walls and up 5,10, 20 stairs to different sounds Men clothed in tiny Speedos partake of the blowjob booths Banya-style. \\'e sit, Ana, Zhenia, Ryan and I and listen to hathers splash and the shh of the showers. A man promising mmm—good backruhs moves closer to bikini-clad hathers who giggle Russian tee hees The man's stomach spills over his Speedoi He asks with massaging motions, his \‘oice soaked with vodka “You vant relax?" He sits with a smack as his Speedo touches tiles. Fat fingers fondle a Baltika beer bottle \Vhoosh, sauna doors open... heat escapes Doors close with click—clack like a matryoshka doll spilling her sisters on wooden floors. Sweat beads drip, drip down foreheads Satisfied customers breathe 'Ahh." 244 Chh! Bottle caps removed, clink as they are tossed away. Mixing with thip, thip ofgirls' flip flops. We leave, the doors close, creak behind us Ana, Zhenia, Ryan, and I. And somewhere in the distance we hear the masseur a faint “You Vant relax?" "You vant relax?" Show less
add just the precise amount of sophistication and elegance you need.” Ruby reached over and pinned a brooch on the lapel of Syd’s jacket. Syd looked down at it in awe. The brooch looked like a spray of lilacs with dozens of tiny amethyst and sapphire stones. The leaves that were tucked behind the... Show moreadd just the precise amount of sophistication and elegance you need.” Ruby reached over and pinned a brooch on the lapel of Syd’s jacket. Syd looked down at it in awe. The brooch looked like a spray of lilacs with dozens of tiny amethyst and sapphire stones. The leaves that were tucked behind the blooms were emeralds and the whole piece showered the porch with dancing stars of light. The two cousins bowed and curtsied before they descended the steps to take their stroll. Syd reached over and patted the item on the seat next to her. She loved the feel and ride of her new PT Cruiser. It reminded her so much of Grammy’s old Dodge; even the colors were the same: midnight blue exterior and silver gray interior. Parking the car, she reached for the leather box on the seat as a bit- tersweet smile crossed her face. She flipped down the mirror and checked her face and hair. As she stood up, a soft breeze caused her sapphire silk suit pants to swirl around her long legs and the late afternoon sun made the lilac brooch twinkle like a sparkler on the 4th of July. As Syd walked into the chapel to share her memories of her cousin, the sun streaming through the stained glass windows reflected and bounced off the multi—faceted crystals of the tiara. DEBRA MARC 24 MURPHY SQUARE L A'x.- \y. Show less
How can she who bore me and raised me be so small, so quiet, and so gray? She bore me and she was my best friend. Now I care for her as she did me when I was her infant. She’s asleep now, in morphine—induced slumber. But I can’t rest. I sit out here on the deck in 3:00 a.m. silence. Everything is... Show moreHow can she who bore me and raised me be so small, so quiet, and so gray? She bore me and she was my best friend. Now I care for her as she did me when I was her infant. She’s asleep now, in morphine—induced slumber. But I can’t rest. I sit out here on the deck in 3:00 a.m. silence. Everything is sleeping but me and the Northern Lights that dance in silent, icy unconcern. My frozen heart waiting, dreading the inevitable, melts inside me and drips into my soul like tears. MARGARET ANDERSON MURPHY SQUARE 27 Show less
Ice Cubes Even the insects are quiet at this hour. Waking through the night is common now; it’s hard to sleep when watching for death. The images of repeated care-giving tasks keep turning over in my mind like the rustling of papers, whispering loudly enough to interrupt my sleep. Tonight I keep... Show moreIce Cubes Even the insects are quiet at this hour. Waking through the night is common now; it’s hard to sleep when watching for death. The images of repeated care-giving tasks keep turning over in my mind like the rustling of papers, whispering loudly enough to interrupt my sleep. Tonight I keep remembering that ice cube. My mother can’t swallow much anymore with cancer eating up her body. The ice melts on her lips and drips into her throat. So we feed her ice cubes now. She doesn’t speak much anymore either, not with her voice anyway. But her eyes are as eloquent as her singing used to be. Tenderly I brush back her silver hair, dry as a tuft of dog hair when once it was shiny and soft, and the sad love in those blue eyes begs me to hear what she cannot say. I say, “I love you too, Mom,” as I so rarely did when she was healthy. 26 MURPHY SQUARE Show less
