the elite no-caps writing collective

new poem

2011-01-03T13:32:00.001-08:00

i got a new poem published about a boring girl i went out with. since i wrote it with no caps i feel it is appropriate to share on this blog. read it here

issue twenty threeee

2010-12-24T10:30:00.001-08:00

_________________________________________

i'm 100% confident that i'm the most insecure guy who has ever tried to date you.

rory bruggeman

_________________________________________

hey!

hey! girl! stand up straight! your awkward shy-girl slump isn't going to be so hip when you're 65. you'll just look weak and feeble. and i'll crush you

totally engrossed

i was totally engrossed in our class discussion. but when he said, "claire, what do you think of this passage?" my mind went completely blank. i suddenly had no idea what we had been talking about for the past half hour. my ears were filled with cotton balls. my face had turned a deep shade of red faster than you can say relax. what is this? anaphylactic shock? it turns out i am allergic to the sound of my own name - especially when spoken by my russian lit professor. and that's why i carry an epi-pen with me everywhere i go.

claire russel

_________________________________________

bananas wear clothes

they are easily undressed

i love naked fruit

anne adams

_________________________________________

the fifth maestro

this should be the end of the crescendo.

we've been in the minor key too long.

everyone's shifting in their seats, gripping their purses.

some have covered their ears. we need release, resolution.

but the pianist keeps hammering the keys.

he's bent over now, crying all over the piano.

red-faced and pained, he's shaking, but still accelerating.

the chandelier crystals shimmer as they vibrate.

a second pianist comes in and stands beside the bench.

he starts slamming low octaves in the same

maddening minor progression. he leans his whole weight

into the keys, almost hitting his face each time he comes down.

people are sweating, looking around nervously, grinding their teeth.

somebody finally breaks and screams,

but her scream just serves as a dissonant harmony

and now she's part of the piece, another brick in the buildup.

i look back from the front row and i see terrified eyes,

open wide and watering at the rims. as the volume rises

some people start passing themselves out to escape the strain.

the doors are locked, the exits blocked.

the man behind me has his head in his hands,

eyes shut tight, shaking his head back and forth

yelling no, no, no, no, stop, stop,

stopstopstopstopstopstopstop.

and now a third pianist runs out and starts jumping on the keys.

he smashes the fingers of the first two

who keep playing with broken, disfigured digits,

sometimes slipping off the bloody ivory.

a fourth comes in with a hammer, rips the lid off the piano

and bangs a high f-sharp string over and over

and over and over and over and over

and over

until the final maestro takes the stage,

walks to the front,

and explodes in a hot, bright, searing light,

consuming us all.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

4 girls

oh hey, someone hacked my email account?

oh hey, how are you?

oh how was kissing that one girl?

oh hey, mind making a statement to the police?

whatever

steve canfield

_________________________________________

watching you slip away one month at a time

the first time i hiked up to that peak

to get all my msgs

you had sent me daily texts

which made eleven

and a voicemail for my birthday

i tried to send one back

but the satellite had already gone

leaving me cursing the heavens

and i spent the next 7 days

rereading your old msgs

the second time i hiked that peak

you had only sent two msgs

sans exclamation points and smiley faces

and i knew for the next 8 days

that i'd lost you

trav clark

_________________________________________

get her out of my heart part II

i see her leaving her house

i see her driving on i-15

i see her at rory's goodbye party

i see her driving home

i see her walking from her car to her door

i see her bedroom light turn on

i see her bedroom light turn off

i see her backdoor is unlocked

i see her food in the refrigerator

i see her toothbrush in the bathroom

it's still wet

anonymous

_________________________________________

my hand is a claw

wretched and old

how many fingers can one hand hold?

first there were seven

now there are eight

crazy how these phalanges propagate!

dane cannon

_________________________________________

"i think about her often, sometimes by the hour. there are many days i imagine i'm debilitated over the loss and failure, and can't get out of bed," he says to her.

"are there actually days you're debilitated over the loss and failure, and can't get out of bed? or is that a phenomenon you can only imagine?" she asks.

"i'm able to imagine this vividly. i've lived it fully," he answers.

"i just wanted to be sure i wasn't the only one."

silence.

"who lingers in your mind before you fall asleep?" he asks.

"i do not have time to write a book, or i would tell you," she answers.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

flight

i would like passenger "a" to lose balance and fall and piss off passenger "b"

because "a" refused to sit down and insert the flat metal fitting into the buckle

until it clicks

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

judgmental

i thought i knew myself pretty well
but then i saw a man driving a subaru and wearing a yamika
and i thought that is weird

megan morton

_________________________________________

the last completely original expression of creativity was about fifteen years ago. the year was 2032. it was musical. something about violins and voices and binary code.

since that time we've been trying, we really have, but the truth is that we've already been straining ourselves for the last couple of centuries and it's just not getting any easier. all of our new things are just the old things repackaged. and nothing changes. everyone hates each other for the same reason that we have hated each other from the beginning. just for being there. just for being "other."

computers didn't save us the way we thought they would. computers didn't have a soul in the way that we thought they might. many of us still believe that they could have... but the soul of humanity was too tired, too old to exert the kind of creativity necessary for that sort of programming.

so the soul of humanity quietly stopped struggling, laid down, and died. that was two years ago. 2045. june. one week after my sixty-second birthday. the older generation, my generation, still makes art but it's bland like the flavor of cardboard, and it doesn't have an audience. there aren't as many people as there used to be. the last thirty years have seen a worldwide decrease in sexual activity. people just aren't in the mood i guess.

the rising generation seems to be different. they give us, well, hope isn't exactly the right word. it's more like a general awareness that the species will survive, that this new generation doesn't have the same debilitating associations that we had. they don't connect sex with things like beauty or passion or love. they seem not to care about the "why". instincts are more important than questions.

they don't see a point in questioning their programming.

just s. guy

_________________________________________

issue twenty three

2010-09-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

quiet night

when you feel nothing,

you're probably either dead

or swimming naked.

colin pinegar

_________________________________________

3 prose poems involving hearts, written with heart

observing an open heart surgery

the heart is on the table and a machine is pumping the blood now. the chest is wide open. the heart is alone on the table. the surgeon is cutting, cleaning, stitching, installing. he has turned his back on the heart that is alone on the table. i am watching the heart. the heart sags beneath its own weight. the heart is not pumping blood or loving. i get self conscious staring at the naked heart. i watch the floor and play with my keys. once no one is looking, the heart begins to sing.

in it

she says she can’t love me, she’s sorry, it’s not me it’s her, she wishes she could. it’s just that her heart isn’t in it, her heart is still in colorado, and now that she mentions it i do notice that the color has all gone from her face.

nighttime

it’s late and i’m depressed. slouching in my chair, i’m skimming old issues of scientific american and trying to be interested in something when there’s a knock at the door. it’s a tall and pale but beautiful woman surrounded by an all-girls choir. i ask her what’s going on and she says that music is the balm for a broken heart then lifts her arms and begins to sing a sweet long loud but gentle note and as she does golden glitter spills down from her hair and begins to fill my room. all the girls join in harmony and one by one their chests explode and spray different shades of gold until it covers my legs my neck my head and i’m floating.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

peacocks really do sound like dinosaurs.

claire russell

_________________________________________

asphyxia

drowning

in other's ideas

lost

trying to find me

hoping

i don't find it

hearing

most end up

drowning

steve canfield

_________________________________________

she’s like…

she’s like the bygone bricks in the stomach of scenic waste.

she’s like the under-nourished noise of grey wanderlust; sadist air-raid sirens blaring.

she’s like the youngest fire starter, lighting the rags in alcohol.

she’s like the millions who left on swollen feet, baked alive by the sun.

she’s like the all-clear, hauling me through the solid circle of my well-placed barricades.

she's like the sickness shredding my chest, making it hard to see but making it worth it to breathe.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

tavaris and keon are both 19. myisha, christina and tavaris are parents. harpreet moved here from india a couple years ago. dantrell weighs 340 pounds minimum. pearson is the valedictorian. tavaris and anthony are lebron fans but dantrell and terrell are kobe fans (i hear about it every day). tavaris' nickname is termite and he is most likely on a 5th grade reading level. terrell and tren are cousins. keon failed 9th grade and works at church's chicken. tanesha and cashlyn are both cheerleaders. trendacian is probably the nicest girl at school, she walks in everyday with a "good morning mr. pratt". terrell, dantrell, myisha, laquavia, cashlyn, michelle, chiristina, tavaris, and tanesha live in eudora, 17 miles south. harpreet lives in the ramada inn across the street from the sunflower because their family doesn't own a house, just a business. terrell, cashlyn, keondric, harpreet, trendacian, and tanesha are juniors will be back next year but the rest are seniors. all of them qualify for free breakfast and lunch at school. all of them take the bus to school. all of them are my students.

clayton nebeker pratt

_________________________________________

elevator rides: a series of haikus (based on actual events)

oh! mary j. blige!

wait - did she just cut in line?!

screw you mary j.

chris crosby

_________________________________________

from "how did it get like this" (part deux)

i am 27.
i am a virgin.
my best friend is 5 years old.
about an hour ago I sat at the train station waiting for a train and reading better homes and gardens... in french.
it wasn't actually better homes and gardens, it was the french equivalent, my garden and my home.
except it was french so it was actually mon jardin et ma maison.
and i wasn't really reading it i was more like flipping through it looking at lawn tractors and wondering if any of the brands were still around.
it was the mon jardin et ma maison from april 1975.
sorry, "avril, 1975."

just s. guy

_________________________________________

so i went on a date with a dentist. i asked him:is buying organic toothpaste a good idea? he said "yeah," there is so much bad stuff in toothpaste, it is terrifying (which i felt was a little dramatic, but he looks at teeth all day so i guess in his context this is really scary for him.) then he added: if i could afford that organic toothpaste i would use it. and that confused me because i buy organic toothpaste and i don't make as much as a dentist and i still eat and live in an apartment all by myself and have plenty of clothes too. so then i wondered where his money was going and if it was not towards organic toothpaste then maybe it was towards cigarettes, pornography, animal tested products or dirt bikes. so i thanked him for dinner but told him i had forgotten that my friend was going to call me and that she had a rare condition where she got super anxious if she heard an answering machine so i was going to make sure i could answer in a quiet place not like a restaurant but more like my apartment that i paid for all by myself even though i wasn't a dentist. so i left and went home and brushed my teeth for a long time.

megan morton

_________________________________________

wow, the world turns

hobo genie, you're the grandpa

you've fathered half this world

granting wishes, stealing kisses

from your grandkids- boys and girls

hobo genie, life in prison

is something you deserve

there you'll find some peace of mind

cause everyone there is a perv

chris duce

_________________________________________

how's your brain?

i've stopped having to remind myself the wound has healed.

enough time has passed.

don't worry be happy, as the singing trout likes to say.

then my self-preservational lie is thrown into sharp relief by a sweet, simple question.

and i walk out of the church alone thinking,

damn.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

poem for lance

we went on a drive along the alpine loop.

i told you how i hated christmas.

you inquired with much interest.

when I never heard from you again I did a little research.

turns out your birthday is on christmas.

you were right.

we would have never worked out.

lindsay erickson

_________________________________________

second published story

2010-09-29T19:14:00.000-07:00

my second published story, "on brightness"

online here.

issue twenty two

2010-09-11T19:44:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

the 1 line

a slightly overweight middle-aged man
sits across from me in the subway.
he picks a newspaper up off the seat.

to free his right hand for reading, he leans back,
twists left, and stuffs a half-wrapped cheeseburger
deep down into his jeans pocket,

where it will be safe.

a million-man prayer

what do we want?
salvation!
when do we want it?
now!

what do we want?
salvation!
when do we want it?
now!

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

haiku

one, two, three, four, five
one, two, three, four, five, six, se...
onetwothreefourfive

from "how did it get like this"

the last time i kissed a girl was 7 weeks ago.
she was from denmark.
we were in morocco.
we snuck into a hotel to swim in their pool,
then we went back to our hotel and had a siesta on the rooftop terrace.
i told her that i believe in god and i believe that through the atonement of jesus christ all men can find the power to change themselves into something better than they are.
you know, reach their potential, become more than the sum of their parts.
she told me she doesn't believe in god,
that she thinks when you die there is nothing.
then we made out.

just s. guy

_________________________________________

he surveyed the room, blood dripping from his vampire teeth. his appetite was insatiable. "who's next?" he said.

and all the girls raised their hands.

claire russell

_________________________________________

my entry

REBEL

myro

_________________________________________

miss spelled

i want to come across in my writings as witty
but grammar is tough
and by grammar i mean my spelling is pretty shitty
and that's not a bluff
i want to write clever things so people know i am witty
but words are often misspelled throughout
and when a clever idea is sent like that it's a pity
cause it doesn't show what you're about
i will keep trying to be a writer who is clever
so i can be as great in person as in word
and people would want me texting them forever and ever
cause they'd be laughing, not at spelling but at my words
well at least everything in this sonnet is spelled right
now, if only i could figure out timing of rhyming, that'd be a delight

(and yeah, i rhymed word with words)

megan belcher

_________________________________________

public health: a true story

the bell rang.

you got up to make an announcement.
you looked familiar, but i wasn't paying too much attention.
you located me by the drinking fountain after class.

kid: you're name is andrew, right?
me: no, it's alex.
kid: oh...well, i owe you an apology.
me: for what?
kid: remember those kids that were making all that noise outside your window last night...
me: ...and peed all over my fence? yeah, i remember.
kid: that was me. sorry

you apologized. but that still doesn't make you any less of a jackass.

alex shahan

_________________________________________

grandkids

when i am older
much much older
i want to have kids

real little people!
they call me mom.
and they think that
i know everything

i will dye pancakes green for them on
march 17.

i will put big bows on their heads
and make them regularly wear outfits
that turn them into little
frogs or mice even.

i will enter their scribbles into every coloring
contest and contest myself when
they do not win

i will place them on sports teams and clap loudly
even as they dribble or bounce the wrong way

i will take them to church before
their feet can guide their direction.
they will listen to my political banter
before they can even speak a word.

they will hear me swear sometimes and
speak ill of our damn neighbor.

their artwork will hang on my refrigerator,
their legos in my bed.

i will clean up their
pee and puke
and clumps of dried mud
mixed with dog hair throughout my
newly carpeted house.

and someday they will either
wipe their hands clean
of all of this

or continue the messy cycle
themselves

megan morton

_________________________________________

caps on caps off

i'm not superstitious but i'm something like that. i just don't always believe in coincidences. like how m phone doesn't know the difference between kiss and lips. i text kiss, my phone spells lips. a notion so lovely to me i am convinced there is a higher power directing the phenomenon. probably the word gods. they created the english language knowing the future capabilities of the flip phone keypad and samsung's predictive text.

not for any reason in particular, just because they could.

if this is the case, however, then surely the rhyming of the words boy and toy was intentional as well. the word gods know, even then, that their little rhyme was destined to be a hit on the radio airwaves. perfect lyrics for the girl power songs of our teen pop generation. yes, it was all planned.

the word gods must be women, so romantic while trying to remain aloof at the same time. and i can say this, because i am a woman. so it's not sexist.

paula weaver

_________________________________________

first published story

2010-09-09T08:23:00.000-07:00

my first published story, "new york city":

online here

week twenty two

2010-01-14T09:54:00.000-08:00

________________________________________

spacegames

a band of robots holding hands,
a band of aliens holding hands.
red rover, red rover,
send robot right over.

lady mystique 69

________________________________________

unconnected triple-rhyme poems that i wrote in class and audibly giggled each time i thought of a new one cuz isn't there something intrinsically funny about sentences with three rhymes in them? the answer is yes, there is.

whatthehell?
sells well

city lights make a
bright night

you can cope with:
hope, dope.

a bit of mold on
old gold

new york city's
pretty gritty

she's a mean but
clean machine

modern romance is a
trance dance

if you're free come
see me

after cutting my bet back,
blackjack

you won't win with
thin skin

she left me here
near tears

no alcohol here, it's
near-beer

after violence and gore we're
war torn

the vegan cheats and
eats meat

haikus about the man who boarded my bus on the pacific coast highway last may when i was in california with a girl who invited me to the beach and didn't tell me about her boyfriend but i got a few poems out of the trip anyways

a homeless man
with fifteen DVDs
and no TV

unlit cigarette --
he sees me notice,
says gotta make it last

one boot, one sandal --
halfway comfortable
on the beach or a hike

"hafta read somethin'
if you wanna stay sharp."
bus schedules work.

austinrory hackett

________________________________________

lewd sunset

sunset is lewd
wrapping the undercoat exchange
with shadows
from the bridge above

cap-less
worth-less
welfare child
speaks the first words
of a five-minute friendship

the only sight
for twenty miles
clothed in the threads
from a coal miner's
dead daughter

every time
the bus passes
that way
each passenger
continues his sole business
turning pages on a paper
or whispering an argument
while innocent hanging children
watch out of smudged windows
detached from all the voices

lincoln wilder

________________________________________

my dad asked me to come over today.

sara, why can't i make the tv turn on?

what am i doing wrong?

you have to come and help me.

it happened just like that.

when you suddenly realize your parents are in the twilight of their lives

you think three things to yourself:

maybe i could have been better about making my bed

at this moment, i really do know better than you.
it feels less triumphant than i imagined and more terrifying.

why didn't you get me a pony?

sara thomas

________________________________________

untitled

the fall promises such luch
but the snow whispers
"i love you"
and i can't just ignore that

now the snow drifts softly downward
falling
falling
but winter can be so fickle
i still keep love on my dashboard
effervescence in its embrace

kb

________________________________________

i am a hustler baby-
i just wanted you to know.

it is not about where i have been,
but where i am about to go [top of the world]

now I just want to love you,
but be the person who I am.

and with all this cash [via more money, hella more problems]
you will forget your man.
now give it to me.

[gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff]

jay-z (adapted by alex shahan)

________________________________________

joseph lombardo

i've been waiting a really long time

i was born in 1882

and then i died in 1965

since that time I've been sitting here

in 2007 there was a spark of hope

my great great granddaughter made a choice

i watched her grow stronger

and prayed she find me

in 2009 she finally caught on

she researched and asked questions

eventually she figured it all out

but there was one little problem

there is more work to be done

but she can't do it alone

she asks several people

but very few ever pull through

she's getting discouraged

and a little overwhelmed

if only people understood the urgency

maybe they'd be more willing to help

she knows most are busy

and don't have much time

but she hates broken promises

and thats all they seem to give her

i don't mean to complain

but i'm getting quite anxious

it's been almost 45 years

i'm getting tired of waiting!

my wife is complete and just waiting for me

i'm coming honey, really i promise

someday soon, but i've been saying that for years

please help my girl, she's our only hope

liese rodger

________________________________________

cool cowboy

he has a wide collection of belt buckles

(collected from hollister)

he says y'all and howdy

(when he remembers to)

his cowboy hat is real-

(-really from walmart)

he'll say he prefers to sleep on the ground

(once. in cub scouts. in his backyard.)

he's a crackshot with a gun

(no, he's not)

his dream is to buy a ranch

and make large cattle drives across the country

(cattle drives died with the continental railroad 100 years ago, idiot)

he would have been in the rodeo circuit

except for all the politics

(politics? seriously?)

he has a natural way with horses

(horseshit)

and its been difficult to adjust to city life

after living in the country for so long

(its difficult for me not to punch him in the face every time i see him)

trav clark

________________________________________

i like gymnastics because i like ninjas
but why do i like ninjas?

carter nelson

________________________________________

week twenty one

2009-12-13T22:09:00.000-08:00

_________________________________________

my mom

pick me up from soccer practice

cut me up some orange slices

capri sun

capri pants

tomato soup and grilled cheese

pajama pants on christmas eve

alex shahan

_________________________________________

time machine

last night i was visited by my future self. he (me, or i) said (will say?) i have lots to look forward to in the weeks ahead. he had borrowed the time machine from our friend the scientist, gard (future gard) and had stopped by on his way to see my life's most embarrasing moment which only happened last week. "really?" i say, "it doesnt get any worse than last week?" "have no fear, my young friend" he says as he pats me on the shoulder, "it will never be as bad as that last week of finals 2009." with that statement he walked back to the time machine, flipped a switch and waved as he shimmered and disappeared. it was only then that i realized my future self had come back a week too soon...

trav clark

_________________________________________

b is for boys at edp

b1: are you a cheerleader? me: no

b1: oh, well i really like your costume!

b2: hey i like your shoes

me: oh thanks, i like your suspenders.

b2: thanks, where did you get your tights?

me: umm i dont remember

b2: cause i have the same pair.

me: oh, thats weird..

b3: dayum girl i really like your style

me: haha thanks

b3: hey would you like to dance with me?

me: um i think i need to warm up first.. ha

b3: oh um ok.. well maybe later then...

30 minutes later..

b3:are you all warmed up yet?

me: uh yeah i guess so

b3: ok great so can we dance now?

me: well i dont really dance with boys.

b3: please just one dance im so into your style girl..

me: i really dont know how, i only dance by myself. sorry..

b4: hey can i take a picture with you??

me: um ok..

etc.

lindsay anonymous erickson

_________________________________________

139 north 500 east

i went to a birthday party for a boy i didn’t know.
i thought it would be fun, make some friends, say “hello.”
little did i know, i was about to have my sleeping heart awakened
by austin rory hackett.
the end.

claire russell, with editorial revisions by austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

i am a special kind of coward

i am a special kind of coward

i have all the warm and soft bits
the bits that sing the songs,
and hug and kiss and love
and laugh laugh laugh
and do all the joyful dancing

and i have the wet and weighty bits
the bits that cry the tears
and wish and hope and dream
and bleed bleed bleed
and do all the heavy longing

but i lack the nut-and-bolty bits
the bits that pay the bills
or earn or plan or save
or 8 to 5 to 8 to 5 to 8 to 5
or do all the busy marching

and here is where the fear begins
"the marching"
like maybe I'm just half a man
like all the juicy fleshy parts
but none of the skeleton

which is why i say i'm spineless

just s. guy

_________________________________________

calamity

calamity
is the exaggeration
of daylight roof dreams
gaining dignity
with sky breaks
and eye cries.

so play
before someone finds you,
bone-bare,
between your violin
and flying arms

unfold
that ear sweetener
for those rattling,
jawing mongrels,

or chase your innocence,
and your music,
beneath the tablecloth
and silver mantle,
against escape
or ever moving one finger
to ivory
or string
or sound.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

pockets of octopus suction cups

this leprosy, around, is reminiscent of last leprosy

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (and only other)

the location of which leprosy was a basement and a a boy

. . . . . . . . . . . . . (and gloves)

and drowned eyeballs in a car.

. . . . . . . . .pockets of octopus suction cups

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

little sister

little sister, just remember
when you move away from home
that when the stars at night don't seem to shine-
i promise that you're not alone.

i've been spared by angels
on many star-less dark blue nights
and in the morning, they cast me gently
back into the dawn day light.

little sister, just remember
when you feel you've lost your way
when is seems as though this windy road
is leading you astray

trust your heart and intuition
they never failed to lead me home-
even when i felt a wanderer
in this strange and foreign world.

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

untitled

devoid of any semblance of human emotion

i am displaced

what i feel is not

what i feel is mercurial

a floret, white blades outstretched

basking in bliss the great illuminated orb provides

i exist solely for you, for the warmth

only you can bestow

administer your being unto me

your softness lulls me to melancholia

i am intoxicated with potential

but disquieted by pleasure

my essence is tectonic.

kristie forzese
_________________________________________

he's my pep pep, i love him

my dad and i were talking about sex the other day

and he reminded me that in order to have my own children

i would need to have sex. what worried me was his tone

it was as if he thought i would never actually have sex and

never give him the grandson that he's always wanted

and then he said, 'im worried you're not going to give me a grandson'

and at that very moment the post man arrived at my home with my mission call

'brother duce, you have been called to serve
in the vancouver, british columbia mission'

and i said out loud 'oh no, that's where my dad lives'
and an hour later i called church headquarters

and rejected my mission call.

now instead of preaching the gospel, i can spend more time trying to give

my father the grandson he deserves

chris duce

_________________________________________

note left on the dresser

you screened my phone call this morning.
i know because i was in the building
across the street from your house
and i saw you leave,
phone in hand.

i guess, then, it was mostly out of anger
that i broke in through your back window after you drove away
because the first thing i did was kick a hole in the wall.

after i was able to calm down and read through your emails,
i stole eighty dollars and left to go buy things
to reimburse myself for all those dinners i paid for,
but then at the store i saw this poetry collection
i had been meaning to tell you about
and picked it up for you.

i hope can you accept this book
as my apology for the hole.
maybe we can get together over lunch sometime
and talk about a few of the poems?
my favorite is the one about the old man
and his twin brother.
let me know what you think.

also, if you're going to be around saturday afternoon
i could come over and fix the wall.
you could even take the chance to repaint the room.
i'd love to help you.
you mentioned you'd been thinking of trying a spring yellow?

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

really heavy metal

the question:

if you were starting a heavy metal band and you wanted it to be the heaviest heavy metal band of all time, what would you name it?

the answers (honorable mentions):

emphyzema
bench press
butch slabchest
bezerker and the master blasters
carbomb
zombie derelict
kitty sacrifice
kitty surprise

and the number one heaviest heavy metal band name of all time submitted by rory emerson bruggeman:

pentaglam

austinrory hackett, jonah bergevin, rory bruggeman, emily labonte, niki arrington, liz preston

_________________________________________

week twenty

2009-11-23T11:36:00.000-08:00

_________________________________________

untitled

oh science
that temptress
my fickle mistress

gard nelson

_________________________________________

party of one

you are what you eat.
and so after our breakup
she's right, i'm nothing.

colin pinegar

_________________________________________

needs adjusting

a crooked picture
hanging on a shabby wall
or is it just me?

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

dizzy ease

my throat is ice cold, like a cold beer,

or a cold blanket, or a cold sore,

and its starting to grow hair on the inside.

has that happened to any of you before? you ever

grown long hairs on the inside of your throat?

maybe its because of its temperature or the fact

that i've been praying for long hairs
to grow on the inside of my throat.

or maybe its because i've been in such a great mood.

but either way, i'm not excited to find out how much its going

to cost to pay someone to trim my throat beard.

chris duce

_________________________________________

if rory bruggeman were called to teach primary
(this is a rap, btw)

you little turd
ill crack your neck
ill hit your face
and youll hit the deck
smash your teeth
grind your bones
i'll make sure
no one can hear your moans

dane cannon

_________________________________________

2012

surely we have at least 100 years to go

before the end is here.

but then i learned

about giant jellyfish sabotaging the coast of japan

global warming or hydro dams are to blame.

refrigerator-sized, translucent, gellatinous beasts dominating the nets of frustrated fishermen

jellyfish transformed into fertilizer, pets, or

human snacks.

and now i think the myans might be on to something.

megan morton

_________________________________________

cubatao

i read today about the brazilian military
reforesting cubatao with machine guns shooting seeds,
a direct contradiction of their original purpose.

this story could be a goldmine for hippies.
they'd recreate the scenario in a photo shoot
and plaster the image on a war protest billboard:

an armament of death spewing life
into the earth and everyone standing around
the weapon smiling, tan and unshaven.

jokes about guns n' roses would be
a hit with everyone involved.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

week nineteen

2009-11-08T22:41:00.000-08:00

_________________________________________

traffic signals

-like the green needles of a coniferous tree

and the red illumination of amsterdam city

shimmy and shaking my body will always be-

breanne chipman

_________________________________________

when you are gone

i warm water on the stove
just to warm my bones-
and i can feel winter coming now.
the windows are closed
and the evening seemed to last
for half the day.

I clench my mug tightly
hoping that the warmth will rub off.
odd how the temperature drops
when you are gone.

thank you new york

beep.
honk honk.
beeeeeep. hoonk.
hoooooonk hoonk honk.
beep beep beeeeeeeeeeeeep.
hooooooooooonk.

thank you new york
for letting me know
that it's time to get up from my nap now.

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

jill taylor vs. dana scully

no shirt, no shoes, no pants,

no baggies, no yum yums,

no plants, no chaps, no braided belts,

no jams, no turtle necks, no dap daps,

no tramps, no spouses, no cummerbunds,

no silks, no smokes, no service.

chris duce

_________________________________________

in response to austin's "solo album"

For the record, Garfunkel had the better voice. And I'm not just sayin that cause our names share the same first three letters (we gotta stick together, you know). Not to mention that there must have been some sort of creative synergy between the two of them - as great as Simon was on his own, his career was never quite the same as when he had Garfunkel by his side. Kinda like the Beatles and the whole sum being greater than the parts, you know?

gard nelson

_________________________________________

broken trust

as you ran toward me,
arms stretched
wider than your smile,
the sun smoked
on the horizon
and beat at the heels
of your fearless footfalls.

though you had not yet reached me,
i could feel warming arms
squeezing from me
a dignity unmatched,
a fire so numb and pretty
it might melt me.

and my fist clenched
and i sent it
shrieking at your eye.

it was like hitting a baseball
so purely
so cleanly
that nothing was felt at all
but the stroke.

you sprawled backward
on the dirt;
a stunned fear
in your circular eyes,
and there was no ball
to throw back.

tomorrow lays alone,
mind on the past
restless, but remembering,
as what we had
marches with spring
out the window.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

i consider you an acquaintance

shatter your glass face
made of clouds and ideals
suck the living breath
out of your bulging lungs
adorned with bow ties and
"arsty angles" of your
tragic face
tulip chains resound like bells
in my black and white dreams
ernesto, rigoberta, saddam
forget them all!
it's your face i see!
it's your approval i demand!
americans; proud to be
unless you like what you see
when you wake up in the morning
"i don't read fiction"
"i don't read fiction"
paris je t'aime.

kristie forzese

_________________________________________

train wreck

what if all your ex-girlfriends
were gathered in the same room
would they yell at each other?
would they fight to the death?
would it be like putting scorpions in jar
and shaking it up?
or like seeing an imminent train wreck,
you want to look away but can't

no, it's much worse.

they would all get along really well
they'd share stories and laugh together
and form a facebook group
and agree to meet monthly

trav clark

________________________________________

the triumph of rock opera

what you have heard is true. meatloaf has the third top-selling album of all time worldwide. 42 million people proudly own a copy of bat out of hell and sing along with the overweight, sweaty, but sexy sexy man in his unflattering tight white shirt and suspenders. and if you don't quite understand how this happened, how it beat out zeppelin's IV or anything by the beatles, and even holds a narrow advantage on the dark side of the moon, just watch the music video for the title track. when he says, "like a sinner at the gates of heaven, i'll come crawling on back to you" and points his fat finger right into the camera to emphasize the fact that he means you personally, you'll never have wanted to give in to anything more. this mysterious man named after a mysterious food will grip your heart in his chubby hands and take you down that road with those 42 million who have paved the way before and put meatloaf on his over-sized throne with giant gold-gilded bat wings reaching out gloriously from either side. giant bat wings straight outta hell.

true love and a possible restraining order

i'm not even positive that it was her i saw
over the shoulder of the less-impressive girl
i was talking to last fall, but i think it was.

she was picking up her bike
from the rack west of the chemistry building
while i was trying to think of a way

to casually break my current conversation
and run over to talk to her before she rode away.
i never thought of one.

that was twelve months ago.
today i chained my bike up in that same rack
for probably the two-hundredth time since i saw her.

each time i hope (mostly subconsciously now)
that we'll both ride in at the same time
and she'll smile at what she erroneously assumes is happy coincidence.

we'll chat about something charming
and i'll pretend to be going the same way as her
only to turn around once she gets to her class

and run back to my own that's held
in the first of the many buildings we passed.
this is not love. this is a sad and pathetically far cry from it.

but I like to think it's a possible symptom,
like the abnormal bumps and discolored moles
that make the doctor check for cancer.

maybe it's an embryonic love,
a precursor to something greater,
but for now still in the eerie little fish stage -

with gills, transparent skin,
and those bulging, ugly, alien eyes.

(from falling star magazine)... they said i have to credit them every time i put it anywhere

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

who said that was cool

books, books, books

they're piling under my bed

its not that I don't want them there

because really, I do.

i just keep forgetting to read them

no, thats not true

the real issue is that when I find more I like

i forget about the ones I already own

and still haven't read.

but I like those books

i like lots of books

i just started reading one today

its about george.

washington, that is.

he's cool, in an

"i sorta wanna know more about him"

kind of way.

i'm a nerd

i'm a history major

what can I say?

"who said that was cool?"

i do.

me and my history books

so cool right now.

liese rodger

_________________________________________

pies

pies are not for baking by wives in kitchens on days absent from work.
kitchens, bedroom, houses, wives. i will never be called wife.

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

a poem for rob

you stumbled in with weak knees and a knot in your tummy.

integrals, derivatives, trigonometric functions of x?...you felt like a dummy.

but then i came to your side, glasses on and calculator in hand.

i said, "i'll sit with you for as many hours as there are grains of sand."

you looked at me with tears in your eyes.

you said, "claire, you've saved me from a most terrible algebraic demise."

i put my fingers to your lips and whispered, "no, rob. rob, no..."

could it be that you have forgotten a similar tale that happened not so long ago?

you see there was a house on thirteenth street.

a haunted house in fact with which few others could compete.

we walked through that maze hand in hand,

on each of our wrists, a red wrist band.

you protected me from the robotic killers and ghosts.

when lance fell over, i think i laughed the most.

rob, i know i couldn't have done it alone.

with your bravery you made it possible for me to get through that death zone.

now what is it we can learn from these experiences

neither of us asked for nor wanted?

it is that nothing can bring two people closer

than math and houses haunted.

claire m. russell

_________________________________________

week eighteen

2009-10-24T13:17:00.001-07:00

_________________________________________

love and marriage

i think i should start being unappreciative and rude to people who make nice gestures for me. apparently that is a personality trait that is finally going to get me a man.

also. if on my wedding day, my father makes a speech in which he thanks his lucky stars that the day he never thought would come has come at long last, it may hurt my feelings.

dappled sunlight on a beautiful fall day is, however, a good omen.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

have you ever thought, "maybe i can't make it, and, even if i could make it, it's probably not worth making it?"

i recently had this thought... about creme brulee.

dane cannon

_________________________________________

macksie pads

i haven't written a poem in a while
as most of you have probably noticed
and the only excuse i have
is that every sunday night i get really high
from chasing cars and huffing their exhaust
i get so so tired and so so high from chasing those cars
and sticking my nose up their tail pipes
and i just forget to write something sometimes
so sue me

chris duce

_________________________________________

the collective conscious of the youtube all-stars

i fall off ladders,
tables,
and roofs.

i abuse my body and pride
for your entertainment,
a sacrificial clown.

i'm on demand,
eternal repeat,
now on iphones everywhere.

i'm the new ice breaker.
the party prop
of the millenium:

"have you seen my latest video?
the one with the electrodes?
no? well sit down and check me out."

i'll never make it big,
i'm the quintessential one-hit wonder.
but at least i'm a hit.

at least i'm a wonder.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

a series of one-liners that get progressively shorter and more pessimistic

"carving pumpkins"
in two days yours will have completely deflated and you will regret that big mess you made in the kitchen.

"never have i ever"
if you win we will congratulate you on being the most uninteresting person in the room.

"boys"
the only ones that are interested in me are either a) my cousin or b) have girlfriends.

"uncomfortable couches"
you're only making it that much easier to take things to the bedroom.

"miley cyrus"
did you know she is the same person as hannah montana?

"purple tights"
all i wanted was to cry when i ripped a hole in you today.

"thyroid"
it would be lovely if you would start working again.

"school" if i can't see you maybe you can't see me.

"xanax"
i stole one from my roommate tonight.

"kissing"
it still hasn't gotten old for me.

"yankees"
you suck you suck

"anxiety"
i hate you.

lindsay erickson

_________________________________________

i just can't see the difference

so what if it is halloween?
don't really care about halloween.
everybody loves halloween
but all i see
are people pretending to pretend to be
the things they really are.

maybe you will see some devil girls
with devil horns, and devil tails
or perhaps you will see a sexy cat
or a sexy nurse, or something worse.
but there are whores on other days
that barely dress and paint their face
bitter hearts and bitter taste
behind a mask of perfume and lace
their lips are red, their eyes are black
and they can't get their virginity back
even if it is halloween.

so what if it is halloween?
don't really care about halloween.
cause all i see
are people pretending to pretend to be
the things they really are.

maybe you will see some spooky ghosts
or zombies walking with the undead hosts
this halloween there might just be
some mummy men, or a skeleton.
but the undead walk on other days
they march along at a steady pace
soulless crowds without a face
that come and go without a trace
stone white ghosts in a hollow shell
wading through their own private hell
not quite sick, definitely not well
in a cloud of numbness that they can't dispell
even if it is halloween.

so what if it is halloween?
i just can't see the difference.

just s. guy

_________________________________________

i wish i didn't want to smash your face in.
i used to dream every night that we were in a kitchen.
and you hated me.
but then i said
"i really like your clothes."
and you smiled.
and we hit it off.
i tried that once.
i said
"i like your pants."
but you didn't smile.
you didn't even look at me.
you never look at me.
next time i see you.
i'm going to walk right up to you.
i'm going to make you look at me.
and i'm going to say
"i really like your style."
and you'll smile.
and we'll hang out for a while.
crocodile!

amber dobson

_________________________________________

two part[s] bird[s]

wednesday: i'm a peacock
. . . blue&green
. . . . . . feathers brown
. . . . boots

my knees knock when i stand

my knees knock when i stand. when i
walk. when i walk from no place to no

place. i'm sitting. and my knees are knocked.
do bodies notice? does the sand, the street,

the everyday road i take to get, notice?
i don't want to be noticed.

lucky charms

at 4am
the spring
4inches
beneath
my ear
pops
each breath

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

the test

so the other day i was driving

when suddenly

a homeless man stepped in front of my car.

i had to swerve and slam on my brakes.

i was irritated and swore under my breath.

then at the next red light i thought.

i thought that maybe this homeless man

had stepped in front of my car just to see

if i or society

still acknowledged his presence in some way.

megan morton

_________________________________________

jerk

hey you. stop it.
you put me in a bad mood.
stop with the power trips.
no need to be rude.

take a deep breath.
you really need to.
just sit down for a sec.
what's got you so blue.

look around the room.
no one is happy here.
you should think about it.
it's time you had some cheer.

sometimes this job is fun.
with you it needs some work.
don't mean to be so harsh.
but i really think you're a jerk.

liese rodger

_________________________________________

saturday morning

the saturday morning sun
shone
with alien intensity,
coloring the drab bricks
first pink,
then white.

but it seems no beauty
can erase
last night

not gold
not god
not a hot steaming stack
of buttermilk pancakes
dripping with fresh
country
butter

but her!

she smells
like cigarettes
and yesterday

she smells
like a street
i know too well,
like tacos
and diesel

she
smells
like
me,
so i won't ask
for anything more
than her emptiness

now she,
that one,
she might just do the trick.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

quite an interesting journey

going through old books
the titles of each seem to tell it all
the story of my family-
quite an interesting journey
"divorce for dummies"
"the divorce remedy"
"making love the way we used to...or better"
"raising children in divorced families"

reading these titles bring emotions to the surface
i thumb through old journals
i can't seem to help myself-
read the story of my parent's life
and reflect upon mine

it seems so ironic
reading words from my father
who commented on his father
and vowed not to make the same mistakes

here i am reading titles of books
on keeping relationships alive
on strengthening home and family
and i vow as well
not to make the same mistakes

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

week seventeen

2009-10-11T18:05:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

the downfall of traveling every week for work

while being on an airplane a lot
skymall magazine told me all the things i
didn't know i needed.

i begin to feel so sorry for myself.

i do not have a toothbrush that can clean itself
or a brownie pan that creates brownies only with edges

i do not have an electronic tarantula
meant to scare off other spiders

i do not have an i touch phone, let alone the two that would facilitate the dual charging device.

i do not have a baseball signed by pete rose
and my poor dog must have a strained neck as his bowl
is not ergonomic.

i do not have the case needed to talk on my cell phone while
scuba diving.

maybe most depressing of all
is that my bathrobe is not made of genuine turkish material.
it is just cotton.

my biggest concern with all of this is that
getting home is always a little less exciting after i realize how
inadequate all of my current possessions are.

megan morton

_________________________________________

the best blues are written in the fall

my roommate has been way too happy
to write any good blues songs lately,
but i have hope for him come fall.

blues written in the spring
have too much undercurrent of optimism,
surrounded by evidence of the after-darkness dawn.

summer blues are half-hearted, almost forced -
trying to pretend things are bad
during long, warm days.

and winter blues are unneeded, overdone,
like kicking the dead, honking in a traffic jam,
or burning a bent and broken building.

but the fall, that's a time for some killer blues,
when nature herself is saying, "yeah, we're all gonna die,
but we're going down in high style,

dressed in our best autumn clothes."

triple haiku on an autumn observation

if only humans
aged half as beautifully
as the dying leaves,

the cover of vogue
wouldn't waste any more time
with young, skinny girls,

but rather would show
some old centenarian
in orange and red.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

conversations: written down @ waffle house/served scattered

it was powerful, though, that girl, who is always at
the library and we smoke cigarettes with.
it didn't work. how's your painting going? -hmmmmmmmm
we must say deplorable. it is the word of the day.
i wonder if i used that in the right context.
-is that my laugh? yeah,-- is that mine?
do you want your trash straw?
and the rockets red glare
i thought about it the other day- how they cut down trees
cheese grits, cheese grits,
i want my song to play. i got a waffle, of course
i got a waffle.
you can sit anywhere you want.
i thought 'i saw the sign' was 'i saw the sun'
did you put syrup on your hash browns?
what is the best experience you've ever had?
-- take a minute
your favorite thing to do
i thought i was getting abducted once
i was listening to cat stevens,
people don't say their f's or t's
it was a vindictive waffle.
i hate that i'm curious.
my mother used to bring me to the morgue
and show me baby limbs.
i've seen at least fifteen. i was taught lessons.

jessie jarva

_________________________________________

i'm sorry

i'm sorry that my claw hammer
slipped from my hand
and stuck into the side of your dog.
some stitches will probably fix him,
but that patch of fur,
that tore away
as i pulled the hammer out,
is probably a goner.

to remember the day
let's change his name
to something that will remind us
that hammers and dogs don't mix.
i've got it!
let's call him "look out"
as i'm sure he'll forever
be looking for flying hammers,
particularly when you're with
any of your dirtbag friends.

it's okay

i could see,
as i looked
at the heel of your shoe,
that you had stepped
in dog shit
on your way
to my house.

you walked right in
like you didn't know
that shit and gunk
had stuck
to the sole of your sneaker,
and then you tracked it
through my living room.

i thought about
taking a meat cleaver
to your feet
and wrists,
and feeding the parts
to the pigs that live
in the neighbor's yard.

but i'm willing
to remain calm;
it's okay, really.
it's just dog shit
on my carpet
and as long as you
pay the bill
to clean it up
i'll give you back
your wife and kids,
unharmed.

lincoln wilder

_________________________________________

the a priori prize: how a winner is chosen by theoretical deduction

when he speaks his words are good...
he says we can improve this hood...
if we just act the way we should...
the intent cannot be misunderstood...
hmm, give him the nobel we could...

brad barth

_________________________________________

aw, here she comes again
with her wrinkled face.
blowin through her two front teeth
pullin up the roots.
screamin out the color...
green to gold to red to orange.
holdin in her hands
the coldest love we ever know.
her comes fall, she's makin snow.

holly jo hackett

_________________________________________

THERE WAS THIS GIRL, RIGHT? AND SHE WAS LIKE, SMOKING HOT, RIGHT? I MEAN, LIKE TOTALLY HOT. SO SOME DUDE WAS CHECKING HER OUT, RIGHT? HE WAS LIKE ALL LOOKING AT HER AND NOT LOOKING AWAY. AND HE WALKS UP TO HER AND HE'S ALL LIKE "I HAVEN'T SEEN A GIRL IN 4 MONTHS. YOU'RE VERY PRETTY." SHE JUST KINDA LAUGHS AND LOOKS AWAY. HE SAYS IT AGAIN "YOU'RE VERY PRETTY. YOU'RE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL I'VE EVER SEEN." HE DOESN'T LOOK AWAY THIS WHOLE TIME. HE'S NOT SMILING. HE'S JUST LOOKING AT HER AND TALKING ALL SERIOUS. SHE SAYS THANKS AND STARTS TO WALK AWAY. THIS GUY GRABS HER WRIST AND JUST KIND OF TURNS IT AND DOESN'T LET GO. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE HURTING ME!" SOME GUY GRABS THIS SERIOUS GUY ON THE ARM AND TRIES TO MAKE HIM TO LET GO, BUT HE WON'T LET GO. ANOTHER GUY PUTS HIM IN A HEAD LOCK AND IS ALL LIKE "LET GO, OKAY--LET GO OF HER!" I REMEMBER THINKING AT THE TIME 'WOULD THEY ALL HAVE COME THIS QUICKLY IF IT WASN'T A PRETTY GIRL?" WHEN THIS GUY PULLED ON HIS ARM, IT HURT THE GIRL TOO, SO HE COULDN'T REALLY PULL THAT HARD. ANYWAY, THIS SECOND GUY PUTS HIM IN A HEADLOCK, BUT THEY CAN'T MAKE HIM LET GO -- HE'S JUST NOT LETTING GO. AND HE'S LOOKING AT THIS PRETTY CHICK--AND HE'S NOT SAYING ANYTHING ANYMORE. THE SECOND GUY IS PULLING HIS CHOKEHOLD REAL TIGHT, AND BY THIS TIME THE BARTENDER CALLED THE COPS. THIS GUYS FACE IS JUST GETTING REDDER AND REDDER, BUT HE STILL DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING, AND THE HEADLOCK GUY HAS ONE OF HIS ARMS AROUND HIS NECK AND ONE AROUND HIS FOREHEAD, BUT IN BETWEEN YOU CAN JUST SEE THIS GUYS FACE AND HIS EYES ARE JUST LOOKING AT THE GIRL, THE FIRST GUY SOCKS HIM IN THE STOMACH AND HE WINCES A LITTLE, BUT HE STILL JUST KEEPS LOOKING AT THE GIRL. THE GIRL IS TOTALLY CRYING AND ALL HYSTERICAL NOW AND HER FRIENDS ARE PULLING ON HER, AND IT'S HURTING HER, AND ONE OF THEM THROWS HER DRINK IN THE GUY'S FACE AND JUST STARTS SLAPPING HIM AND HE WON'T LET GO. AFTER LIKE A MINUTE MORE HE FINALLY PASSES OUT AND HE LETS GO. THE TWO GUYS HOLD HIM DOWN TILL THE POLICE GET THERE, BUT THEY DIDN'T NEED TO, HE WAS OUT. THEY JUST LOADED HIM UP AND TOOK HIM AWAY. WHEN HE FINALLY LET GO, I JUST REMEMBER THAT THAT GIRLS ARM WAS SO RED, LIKE HIS FACE WAS. YOU COULD SEE HIS HANDPRINT ALL ON HER ARM. YOU COULD SEE THE WRINKLES FROM THE JOINTS ON THE INSIDE OF HIS FINGERS.

dane cannon

_________________________________________

week sixteen

2009-09-21T08:34:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

roommate haikus

sam may not be tall
but clearly has the most style
per square foot of man.

chris is protecting
your family with logos
and color palettes.

when rory dances
even kanye and jay-z
wish that they were him.

jonah helps the world
by destroying deadly germs
through the nintendo.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

the last 24 hours.

begin 10 am. drive drive. st.george. drive. diana snapshots. drive. gotta pee!! drive. viva las vegas. in-n-out #3. savers purchases: wedding dress for dead bride costume, euro-trash jacket. burger king bathroom. wardrobe change. makeup on. fake tats on. tropicana. mandalay bay. byu loss on the big screen. happy hour sushi. run in with provo friends. crappy band named halloween town (isn't that a disney original movie?). drunken neighbors breathalizing regularly and finding themselves "sober" each time. "sorry guys, we're all on ecstasy.. we are." beer spill. fake g.a. wrist band fail. phoenix!! last of the mohicans soundtrack? the killlerrsss. weed smokin in the bathroom. officially deaf. the strip. bellagio fountain. time to go. drive drive. multi-car pileup. cops cops ambulance. hour long standstill. drift into sleep. honk we're moving again. drive sleep. sunrise. drive drive. provo. church clothes. solid relief society lesson by yours truly. end 10 am.

lindsay erickson

_________________________________________

phobia

this weekend i observed as my nephew (age 8) flipped through tv channels. he stopped on cage fighting just as a bout was getting started. i asked my nephew if he knew what he as watching and he replied, "a fight." i explained a little about the rules and style of this particular sport and warned him that it might get bloody. he reacted instantly by shutting off the tv and bolting out of the room. i sat on the couch perplexed by what had just happened.

later that day maggie and i took this same nephew, along with my niece (age 6), out for frozen yogurt. while driving home the subject of spoon color came up and i found myself defending my choice of pink. i asked the kids if they liked red because pink is basically a light red. my niece then said, "i like red but my brother is scared of red cause it reminds him of," then added in a whisper... "blood."

i asked him to confirm if this was true. he replied, "i have a phobia."

this confession of my nephew hit home with me and i instantly felt for him because when i was exactly his age i developed a phobia as well, one that my family gave me a hard time for. it was a fear of . . . bananas.

now is my chance to explain.

late one saturday afternoon, when i was just a tyke, i went for a bike ride with a friend to his neighborhood. we were nearing his house when we saw his neighbor standing with the hood of his vintage sports car open and shouting at his engine. it was obvious that he was freaking out about something interesting so we rode up the driveway to inquire. the neighbor explained that he had been called to the hospital where he worked and ran outside to jump in his car. just as he was about to get in something caught his eye. he stood lower and saw the tail end of a snake as it slithered from the drive way up into his engine block.

the man said that he could see the snake but it was way out of his reach. then he looked down at me. being the smaller of the two kids standing in his driveway, he asked if i would be willing to squeeze under his car and reach up and pull the snake out. assuming that lives at the hospital were at stake, i agreed to go for it. as i wiggled my way between the chassis and cement i realized it was a much tighter fit than i had expected. i likely would not have fit had it not been for the amount of leaked motor oil that greased the way. i continued to wiggle until i was entirely pinned under the car. at this point i realized a few things, it was very dark, very oily, and oh yeah i had no idea if this snake was poisonous. to top it all off i was stuck. attempting to reposition myself, i inhaled a deep breath and realized that the moist air was rancid. as my eyes adjusted to the dark i realized that just in front of me was a black pile of rotten banana. It was to much to take, i yelled out in terror and the man finally pulled me out from underneath the car by my legs.

i cant remember how or if the snake was captured that day, but i do remember the smell of that banana. it took me ten years before i have the courage to eat a banana again.

myron nilsson

_________________________________________

lunar parasite

alone on frost bit bleachers
i rest within your gaze
outstretched amongst your brights
and blacks

im saturated in this
in you
feeding off your gentle rays
like sweetly swollen veins

soaking in your glory
as you dance in my akward arms

pale moonlight shine
grace this lonely face
glide down my throat
like a drop
and fill me please
imply the lie
that i might lie
forever underneath you.

alan christensen

_________________________________________

that house should have swallowed me, i begged. last summer was free time and no car. last summer i walked and that night when i first noticed that house knees melted into road into sea. happiness was not the issue. rarely, if ever, i ask houses to consume me due to happiness. beauty belched from beach stoned exteriors. radiations of transfixed flying freedom convinced me to be the house.

the walks, probably, didn't help. everything about walking takes me to the north west. the rain. the dry. the truck stop that never stopped growing. the slug we named living in a bike box moldy three feet in grass we trimmed with scissors. and kept the slug. pink ovens. catching seaweed. all i ever tried to catch, seaweed. and moss. crows skipped,

like stones across parking lot puddles, used tampons. i walked home bare foot, pouring rain, splashing in those petite pools in love with naked wet soles. in love with former volcanoes, hollowed dead trees affording space for me. how kind. how in love. how october. take home-able

road bumps i drove over to make you laugh. the ground declared from a battle, a battle that never took place. the walks from free time summer last year remind me of the years i wish would consume me in the north west. portland lived alone on sealed cement i stained with salt water overflowing

from shot glasses. the trolley i swallowed up my atmosphere on, homeless or crazy or homeless and crazy dialogue is a magician forcing rabbits and women and ropes. i kept those dialogues...monologues...

sarah cutler
_________________________________________

week fifteen

2009-08-07T15:49:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

eff missed opportunities

opportunity came a knocking

but no one answered the door

so opportunity tried the door knob

and it was unlocked.

opportunity opened the door and walked inside

it hesitantly hollered, "is anyone home?"

as it walked across the dark hallway

unfortunately for opportunity

the owner of the house

had recently discovered a gas leak

and had evacuated the house

to wait for the repair man

just then opportunity found the light switch

trav clark

_________________________________________

ipod shuffle

you can't always get what you want
but if you try sometimes, you just might find
you get what you need
we all need somebody to lean on
so lean on me when you're not strong
and i'll help you carry on
for it's the eye of the tiger
it's the thrill of the fight
rising up to the challenge of our rivals
and we are the champions my friend
and we'll keep on fighting til the end
it's the end of the world as we know it
but i feel fine.

megan morton

_________________________________________

have a great summer

you probably always just assumed they were wishing you a good summer, but here are some other (very likely) interpretations of h.a.g.s.

hold a great seance
harm a good samaritan
hold a greasy snake
hold a greasy seance
have a greasy summer
hear a gaseous sound
hams are good'n soggy
holler at girls' seats
hey! any girls sexy?
hello? are goblins secret?
help!!! aunt gertrude sharted!!
he-man's a great swordsman
houdini: a gay sorcerer?
hidalgo: ain't going somewhere
hope a girl sexts (get it? sexting...?)
hello and good september
hurry amber, gordon's shedding!
heaven's a goody shelter
haven't any girls sexted?
hurray! a glowing scepter!
have any good spleens?
had a good spleen.
hell's a great sauna
hairy as german sisters
have any good stuff?
hear amber greatly speak
heard amber's "great" speech; had a good snore

amber dobson and austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

the epitome of good design is something
that is functional and looks beautiful

on occasion, my hair reminds me of a schoolyard

a schoolyard in hell

well, maybe not hell, just some place close to hell

like las vegas, the city of sin.

i think that everyone needs to spend
seventeen afternoons in a row playing

the craps table in a run-down las vegas casino
just to get enough money

to travel to the philippines

and sell all of their playstation 1 video games

to people that have never even heard of tony hawk.

if i meet tony hawk in a dark alley im going to shake his hand

and then im going to kiss him on the mouth

and then im going to ask if he wants to trade clothes

and if he says yes

im going to retire.

chris duce

_________________________________________

my hair

its in my face

its hot on my neck

it clogs my drain

it gives me headaches

my mom finds it in the vacuum

it can ruin a kiss

if it gets in my mouth

my friends say they find it

even after i go

my hair, my hair

its everywhere

people compliment it

some even call me repunzel

they say "i'd kill for that kind of hair"

that seems a little drastic

cold blooded murder, for something so bothersome

i cant complain though

and i cant cut it off

because i fear that im like joe

in little women, and that like her

my hair is my one true beauty

aly cain

_________________________________________

i met you on the day you died

i met you on the day you died.

barely knew you for an hour.

if it weren't for careless dads and pools

this day would be less dour.

content with my ipod and tanning oil,

i watched you splash with your friends.

but after a while i got too hot.

that's when we first shook hands.

you asked me my name and told me yours.

you couldn't be more than five.

you showed me the styles you knew how to swim

and how you could almost dive.

it felt nice to make a new friend that day.

i don't get to see kids that often.

don't remember the last time i smiled so much.

i'll admit, your jokes were awesome.

or maybe it was just the life in you.

kids have a magic about them.

they charm with the simplest laugh or smile,

tools they use to evade any problem.

but this day would be different from any before.

at least for this young provo family.

did you hit your head on the side of the pool?

someone may have seen, but not me.

your body was blue and no heartbeat was found.

i watched as your dad kept on praying.

someone made a quick call and soon help had arrived.

i tried but couldn't hear what they were saying.

and sooner or later or i don't know when,

time was all running together,

they announced what i feared more than anything else,

the emptiness in your frail little figure.

i'm sorry for all the games you won't play.

i'm sorry for the girls you won't kiss.

i'm sorry for parents who will never forget

the vivacious son that they miss.

and now i sit and write by myself

about things that i don't understand.

why some of us live and some of us die

and who draws this master plan.

lindsay erickson

_________________________________________

7/30/2009

as i return to where i lost and then found myself i start to question if this journey will be as productive as others. i am further built than any previous moment, but some of the foundation has cracked...and what i have lost has crumbled and there are no hands of retraction to reach into the chasms of the past to piece me back together as i was. i will make an attempt to build on what remains until one day this top heavy soul topples down on my legacy beneath me. through the wreckage i hope those i love piece together a puzzle that creates the concrete story of (my name).
aug 30 1984-

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

there is so much that is wrong with the world

and yet there is so much, so much that is right

the cool air blowing on my face and legs in my 105 degree car

the juicy watermelon that somehow quenches
my thirst and hunger at the same time

the cards i made for my sisters
that somehow make me feel
like i'm not so far away from them anymore-

there is so much, so much that is right with the world

it just takes a little more to see it.

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

gravedigger diction; or, a note to the kid
that sits in the back of my english class

your deep, slow, expressionless voice
that i first heard when you volunteered
to read creon's part in "antigone" out loud

is exactly like the one i imagine hearing when i die,
and death arrives in my bedroom
with his scythe and billowing black cloak.

my hope, though, is that your voice is not the only trait
you and the stealer of souls have in common;
the more similarities the better, really.

for example, i hope to find him rocking nervously back and forth
obviously unsure how to start the conversation -
wringing his hands, then stuffing them in his pockets.

i assume death will be accompanied by a cold wind.
if this lifts his cloak a bit, i want to see over-sized tennis shoes.
i want thick white socks bundled around his skinny ankles.

and above all (please, please, pleeaase), i want so badly
for him to explain the details of my imminent fate
entirely through references to star wars.

luke 19:5

how did he
know it's me
in this tree?
he must be
the only
son of he -
he who we
say made seas,
rocks and bees,
and this tree.

story #5

this is a story about the 23 inch pizza my friends ordered. that's race-horse size. it's the pizza version of trying to give a piggyback to a person giving a piggyback to a person giving a piggyback to a person. i can't remember all the toppings they got on it and the story would be better if i did remember. there were peppers. other than that, i don't remember. but it was for sure more than just peppers.

i got cheese sticks and didn't finish them. the end.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

week fourteen

2009-08-02T13:46:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

chola

earlier in the week
i was pretty sure that I needed to go to the doctor

i could just sense it

but the doctor was on vacation, in afghanistan,

searching for religious documents,

and by that i mean his copy of the bible that he'd lent to a friend,

so i called his colleague
who's my uncle, but
he was at the family reunion i wasn't invited to,
so i started watching an episode of gray's anatomy,
cause its a damn good show about the body,

and the cast is brilliant

it reminds me of early episodes of three's company

and a little bit of batman forever

so anyways, i ended up passing out and i just woke up a few minutes ago

chris duce

_________________________________________

untitled

i want to be an actress.

and vegan.

and cool.

and ill probably just end up being a waitress.

and fat.

and awkward.

amber dobson

_________________________________________

double meanings

i've long been warned that girls
will not say what they mean;
know what they want but claim
to want some other thing.

when saying something rude
they're flirting half the time,
and if it's something nice
their true thoughts aren't so kind.

but hid between the words
are clues (some hard to find)
that hold the real intent -
the truth inside the lie.

so what, then, is the hint,
the message i can't see,
in this last text she sent:
"please just stop calling me."

story #3

this is a story about a processing plan in wisconsin... puppy goes in, meat comes out. pony goes in, meat comes out. dolphin goes in, meat comes out. kitty goes in, meat comes out. baby elephant goes in, meat comes out. the end.

picking up megan; or, i don't believe in 747s

flying buses are
entering and leaving

the airspace of
salt lake international.

somehow amidst this
denial of reality

arrives megan morton.
she seems oblivious

to the fact
that she arrived

by some form
of black magic.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

valentines day, 2009

as i drive by the homeless man
i notice his sign
"anything will help."

i look to his side to see a
plastic vase with a single pink fake carnation
and baby's breath.

i hate to be cynical, but some people
are way too damn literal.

megan morton

_________________________________________

untitled

smooth sheets cover the bed.

knee up, partially folding in

eyes gazing out.

empty images paint the night scene.

silence penetrates

thoughts clear.

character. sleep.

poetry?

a tensive thumb presses

against uneven teeth

and dries together with his lips.

character. sleep.

mark miller

_________________________________________

call center

seated at her desk

she sighs as she qualifies

and swears at poor leads

the day i learned to stand up for myself

when i was little i had this friend named catherine adams. she was the worst friend ever. she was a year younger than me but she was always bossing me around. no one liked her but she was so intimidating that everyone always did whatever she said. she told us that if we didn't do what she wanted then she would have her older brother come and beat us up. one time we were playing at my house with a couple other girls. catherine decided we were going to play sardines and i was it. i hid for a long time and no one ever came to find me. i finally came out of hiding and when i looked out the window i saw catherine adams riding around on my bike with all my friends. i was so angry. i went outside and started walking towards her. she jumped off my bike and threw it down on the pavement. she started making fun of me and calling me bad words but i just kept walking closer to her and when i got real close i pushed up the sleeves on my pink sweatshirt and i punched her in the face! the look on her face was priceless. her nose started bleeding and she told me her brother was gonna beat me up. i told her that if she sent her brother over here then i would have my brother beat up her brother. so she started to cry and ran home. and i laughed out loud in disbelief and joy and complete satisfaction with the world.

lindsay erickson

_________________________________________

...

that wall looks perfect from upside down

my boots, tripod, camera bags

both calendars, climbing shoes, ballet shoes

mess of bags

theiveried road bumps declaring friendship

like a picture. it all looks perfect like a picture

except from upside down when the floor

is the ceiling i can see the innacuracies

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

hey, i don't think you're hot anymore...

++anonymous++

_________________________________________

untitled

i wore a white dress to church today
and i didn't get asked out on a date
maybe next time i won't wear a dress
at all

breanne chipman

_________________________________________

shark week tshirt ideas

tupac sharkur

bull shark obama

wild sharks can't be broken

chris crosby

_________________________________________

is that a pencil in your pocket or you just happy to see me

the other day I woke up late for work. i had to make a mad dash out the door so i picked up the pair of pants that were lying on the floor. my rushing nerves subsided as I made my way into the building doors and the day went on as any other day. well it wasnt until about two a clock when i was standing by the copying machine and suddenly i felt something slide down my left pant. no sooner did i look down to find a little piece of white clothe peaking out of the bottom of my pant. before i had a chance to examine it any further it plopped out on the office floor. i came to realize that it was my bottom g from the day before and that it had been making its way down my leg throughout the day.

rich curtis

_________________________________________

week thirteen

2009-07-19T09:39:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

in memory of my dad (1954-2009)

i started missing you in the grocery store.
i am not sure what triggered my sorrow.
maybe it was seeing the little girl that probably has a dad.
or the man that walked by wearing running shoes.
or the crispness of the carrots--
the yellow of the lemons,
the smell of doughnuts
or the sounds of squeaky cart wheels.

or maybe it was all of it.

the grocery store is about as everyday as it gets.
so maybe I cried because I was reminded that
everyday is exactly how long I am without you
and how often I will think of you and miss you.
so I started to cry. not sob, but undoubtedly tears.

I looked up to see a small 17 year old curly hair boy
with a green apron and a name tag.
what could I explain? so I missed you some more,
and soon some of your love and humor surrounded me,
so i looked at this boy tearfully and said,
"I just love good produce."

megan morton

_________________________________________

america: home of the free

in america: land of the brave,
we are free to wet ourselves
at first sight of an enemy.

we are free to worry
about nazis gassing us
through the heating vents,

and are free to board up
the heating vents
to prevent this.

in america: land of opportunity,
we are free to live at mom's
into our thirties

we are free to play second life
while our first one
goes on without us,

and are free to achieve nothing
admirable, praiseworthy,
or noticeable as a result.

billie jean

billie jean is still my lover
she's just a girl who claims that mj's the one,
but the kid is not his son.
she says he is the one,
but the kid's for sure my son.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

my face is pressed against a window

the rose-colored glass taunts me with a sing-song voice

sources of comfort, now seeming to know

join in on the joke, and laugh at his choice.

rude.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

band together pink saris

the pink sari gang strikes again!
widows against injustice
left a rapist with 2 black eyes,
the women are tired
and it's been unleashed.
"don't harm that woman, or your ass is ours".
shiva is our empowerment? no!
our single goddess is hot,
therefore, the tension is high
leaving only angry violence as our answer
now we control, so fear the pink sari
all ye rapers, beaters, violators, and dominators
of women.

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

low.as.long

sort of like a disease, but cuter.
death of the poet death of everything just death
death.death.death.death.
its sort of like an obsession. this death
but that day was moss and this
is death. still cute.
tile patterns like beehives in swimming pools
i will drown i've
practiced
in bathtubs alone
. . . . .in public water resorts
. . . . . . . . .i've practiced back
. . . . .towards the sun facing
. . . . . . . . .tiles in a swimming pool
. . . . .eyes open and chlorinated and
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . limp. my death
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .has been done
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .outside of tiles
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .and water, too.
. . . . . it runs exhausted low as long and
. . . . . . . . . . so untraditional a mossy day at death.
while the sun cuts up and wags the sky
across clouds beating drum kicks furious and rapid
i see the sun and swallow it entirely.
lodged in the back of my mouth for
a year and a half and then a new location
to the throat and a lick ride that color was
like moss with caterpillar skin.
and there the sun remains by my
lump of tissue blue and flesh and hopeful of
death with the sun whole and bound as a heart.

untitled

damn the entirety of this circle
each voice is incomplete
each voice is an opinion
damn each opinion

my voice
or an individual voice
is the turn table topic
truth in ink is the topic

individual voice
is not that of a group
is not yours
damn your opinion

this circle of people
is violating
personal creativity

sarah cutler

_________________________________________

myron's observations at the lake

7-18-2009, 12:37pm: a man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment a girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

7-18-2009, 12:40pm: the next man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment the next girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

7-18-2009, 12:44pm: the next man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment the next girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

7-18-2009, 12:50pm: the next man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment the next girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

7-18-2009, 12:57pm: the next man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment the next girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

7-18-2009, 1:04pm: the next man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment the next girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

7-18-2009, 1:09pm: the next man skillfully maneuvers his late model, extended cab, 4x4 truck backward until the chrome wheels of the boat trailer are swallowed up from the lapping waves of utah lake. at the same moment the next girl stands in the boat dutifully prepping the boat for its saturday showcase.

etc.

myron nilsson

_________________________________________

2s and 3s

life can be as simple as choosing-

this or that

here or there

now or later

up or down

right or left

and seclusion exclusion and inclusion

make or break the illusion

of walls made by us and them

you choose

rich curtis

_________________________________________

more than enough

im sure with each child

not just with me,

you wondered if

what you said and did

would ever be enough.

you pulled me through

when we both almost went.

you stood by me during

my twos, when i was terrible.

you taught me what it meant to learn

all through my elementary years.

you held your ground

when i was sure that mine was higher.

you helped put my head on straight

when i thought it looked better crooked.

you were my beam of hope for 18 months

when i had nothing else to hope for.

you reassure me that i should, i can, i will

every time im convinced i shouldnt, cant and wont.

when i think of how to thank you,

each gift i could give pales in comparison

to the gift of life you so graciously gave to me.

be it known mom, that in my life

what you said and what you did

all of it was

more than enough.

aly cain

week twelve

2009-07-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

smokey pay

when you ask a firefighter

if it's going to be a bad forest fire year

are you asking if there'll be lots of fires?

or if it's going to be a bad year

to be a forest firefighter

who doesn't get hazard pay

overtime pay

holiday pay

sunday differential pay

because there are no forest fires to fight?

record amounts of precipitation

for the month of june

means that firefighters are stuck

dressing up like smokey the bear

for the provo/lehi/payson/alpine parades

and before you ask - no,

there is no such thing as smokey pay.

smokey the bear wants you

to start forest fires

trav clark

_________________________________________

imagine dungeons and dragons

my pants don't fit no more

maybe its cause i eat ez take out burgers all the time and

delicious milk shakes from del taco

or maybe its cause the pants i wear

are ones i stole

from the boys and girls club before they laid me off

wow im poor now and if anyone wants to help me pay

my utility bill

let me know

chris duce

_________________________________________

blessed autotrophs

light makes by carbon fixation
a forest out of air,

a small part of which becomes a
red coil-less notebook of

micro-perforated sheets that
holds a few of my poems.

break dancing

step to the music.
hand in hand
hand to back
step turn step.
eye contact.
smile.

i twist her arm sharply
out of socket

pop!

she kicks my knee backwards
against the bone

snap!

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

dear artists,

great photography + boob guest appearances = not my favorite photography. it really hurts when i find some gnarly photographers who do it for me, then end up throwing me a curveball with their completely unnecessary theme of "the girls". i get it. it's natural. edgy. beautiful. artistic. whatever. but come on. we all know what they look like. let's set our sights outside of the boobie box. there's plenty of other body parts that are potentially photogenic. for instance, feet. or maybe even faces. now, i understand that we all have the right to free press. expression. art. i also get that our bodies are magical things that we should love and appreciate. and i do. but perhaps bude art should be left to the painters? not the self proclaimed hipsters who think that their last addition of that nipple was just what the project needed? i don't know. these are just ideas.

best regards,

ifiwanttoseethemilltakeashower

_________________________________________

satan is pretty smart

i want instant gratification.
i hate saving up for things.
i want them now.
i dont care if he will hurt me later
i love him now.
i dont care if this is fattening
it tastes good now.
i hate that it feels good now
and later feels wrong.
i know ill be tired tomorrow
but right now i want to stay up.
i want to be happy now.
i wont bother about yesterday
and tomorrow is too far.
ill do anything, for right now.
anything.
anything?
satan is pretty smart.

aly cain

_________________________________________

they're running out

they're running out

they're running out of batterrrrrrryyyyyy

no batteries!

++anonymous++

_________________________________________

small talk with a new neighbor

oh hi.

yeah, just getting home from work.

it is hot, isn't it? well, have a...

oh. really? 115 degrees? a puddle of your own sweat? no kidding.

i didn't know it got that hot in 'nam.

well, i guess i shouldn't complain then.

see you...what was that?

yes, i guess i do a fair amount of shopping.

yeah, i guess you're right. a cold pack really might help me out.

well, it was sure nice meeting you.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

indians migrate? gone? or i'm never going to? or killed? in limbo? love you... oh, u!!!

dane cannon

_________________________________________

i sang with a gospel choir tonight

it was an unforgettable experience

there was no way that I could possibly blend in
so i decided that i had to be comfortable being different-

comfortable being myself.

i was the only 'white' person in the whole show

i sounded different,

looked different,

worshipped different-

but i felt a strange impression

that i was there for a reason-

breaking through invisible barriers that keep too many apart.

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

i am a man, but i once gave birth to an angel.

++anonymous++

_________________________________________

week eleven

2009-06-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

will, age 4

"mom, what are these beans called that are in my wiener that hurt when I pinch them?"

will to mom: "you're dumb."
mom: "i'm going to tell your dad you said that."
will: "no! i said you're gum! i said you're gum!"

babysitter: "will, time for bed."
will: "no. here's what's going to happen: i'm gonna go downstairs, watch a kid's cartoon show, eat some chicken nuggets, and you're not going to say anymore bad words to me."

after playing guitar hero: "i can't wait to grow up so I can wear a metal shirt and drive a van."

"i can't wait until i'm eight so i can have a mustache."

after mission impossible 3: "i want to put a missile in my brain so i can die and have my own haunted mansion."

compiled by chris crosby

_________________________________________

after life, after laugh

when this is all over
and 'today' lasts an eternity,

it will be a really funny joke
if there's something you don't want to do

to say, "i'll get it done
first thing tomorrow"

description of a house in paraguay

there are two rooms separated by a curtain,
beds with worn mattresses,
the smell of yerba mate and a small cooking fire,
a low cement door frame with no door,
chickens coming in and out unnoticed,
the yard full of banana trees,
an old man rotting in his own bed,
a plastic cup full of worms he coughs up,
two wooden chairs,
a coat rack with some dusty old jackets,
a window letting in a square of bright morning light.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

my entry for this blog this week is a bit of a fake. i did not write this piece. i am a pre-school teacher at a low income school in houston texas. one of my big goals for my students is that they become really good writers. every day we journal to help us become better writers. for most of my students they simply scribble a picture and maybe write a few random letters, which is appropriate for a 4 year to do. but, i have had a few students really take off. when a student works really hard on their journal, they have the option of typing it up so that we can publish it later. i have chosen a few select entries from one of my students, shia. i help type the date, and she does the rest! enjoy.

april 12, 2009: shia said, we went in a lemo the end. to take us home to a chinis retsrut the end.

april 15, 2009: shia said, “me and ms. morton went to the woods to see a bear and then he jumped inside the volcano the end.

april 21, 2009: shia said, “me and ms morton are going to bryans party to have cake the end. april 22, 2009: shia said, “ me and ms. morton went to clean the earth to save the wolrd.

april 29, 2009: shia said, “me and ms.morten went to see a quail and a xray the end. because we are learning the letter q And x the end.

may 4, 2009: shia said, “me and ms. morten are going to the library to be smart

megan morton & shia

i said i wouldn’t date you

it is not that you are are not attractive and good and smart and kind.

but you don’t believe in global warming.

and i do

especially when I think of a little polar bear cub stranded on a piece of ice that is melting so fast that the little baby won’t know how to swim when he is thrown into the depths of the arctic ocean.

so i still believe in global warming, and you still don’t

but now we are dating.

and i don’t want to change your mind, because i know you sure as hell will not change mine.

and I know my hippie friends may disapprove, but i have come to realize that you are attractive, good, smart and kinder to me than i deserve.

and if you are right, and the earth is at atmospheric peace, then i want to enjoy that infinite amount of days with you.

and if i am right, and tomorrow we evaporate into a pile of teeth and chaco sandals, i still would have wanted to have been with you.

megan morton without shia

_________________________________________

aren't I glad to have a hero
aren't I glad to feel sorrow
aren't I glad to see blood
aren't I glad to use bandages
aren't I glad to feel joy
aren't I glad to find meaning
aren't I glad there is purpose
even when my doubts fly high
and
my faith is crawling low
aren't I glad friends give me thought
aren't I glad I don't know the answers
aren't I glad there are clarities
aren't I glad I'm weak
aren't I glad I have the chance to grow
aren't I glad for the dead
aren't I glad to go on living.

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

I used to see it

but now I see green for red

in its empty space

eleanor kramer

_________________________________________

i have a secret

i want to make a boat out of wood.
most likely oak or cedar wood.
but only because i think they are more sturdy than other woods.
i dont know how to make a boat out of wood
most likely i'll have to cut it.
but only because thats what the youtube instruction video said.
and so im going to make a boat out of wood.
dont judge me

rich curtis

_________________________________________

week ten

2009-05-02T00:04:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

you're wrong about kevin bacon -
punch dancing solves everything

rich curtis

_________________________________________

in the beginning there was summer
and summer was good
and summer was austinroryhackett

breanne chipman

_________________________________________

mashup: nelson mandela vs. t-pain

it is better to lead from behind and to put others in front, oh baby girl, what's your name? let me talk to you, let me buy you a drank especially when you celebrate victory when nice things occur. shawty what you think 'bout that, i'll be in the gray cadillac you take the front line when there is danger. then people will appreciate your leadership. we in the bed like ooh ooh ooh we in the bed like ooh ooh ooh.

chris crosby

_________________________________________

fear-less

last night, the devil came and planted a seed in my heart

which unexpectedly began to take root...

from one moment to the next, i suddenly found myself in a panic

for the love and healing which had carefully been planted

was now being choked by this weed of fear.

i tried to pull it out- holding on as tight as i could

but the weed was now too strong for me to pull out on my own.

"Lord," i cried, "please stand by my side,

and give me the strength to pull out this weed of fear.

and forgive me, i pray, for allowing this day,

the fear to take root in my heart."

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

bad boys (aka brown town)

when its late at night,
its important to look at yourself in the mirror

now, take a good hard look
and think about everything you did today

now, if you drank a bloody mary- talk about it with yourself

mention the bloody mary three times

three's the charm!
and then wait for some important self realization

chris duce

_________________________________________

this is what happened

i don't remember if it was thursday or saturday... probably saturday cuz that's a weekend... yeah that makes sense. k so it was last saturday (true story) and i was helping my uncle with a cub scout fundraiser breakfast. i was in it for the orange juice and then when i got there they just had that mcdonald's orange drink crap.

everything was normal and it was like any other breakfast until the webelos decided to have a pancake eating contest. i'm pretty sure that doug the thick tongan kid challenged everyone thinking he could win easy. well, whether or not he started it, doug got off to an early lead by smashing four real quick. i think most of the people watching assumed that would be unchallengeable for the rest of the eleven year olds but then (and i swear this really happened) we noticed that aaron at the edge of the table had finished five and started another.

now aaron can't weigh more than sixty pounds with his pockets full of nickels, but this shy little skinny kid never even looked up from the table until he had eaten one hundred and forty eight pancakes. i'm not even joking about this. dead serious. one hundred and forty eight pancakes and then he stood up and axe-kicked the table in half.

doug finished with six. six compared to one hundred forty eight is like a rash compared to anthrax. anthrax can kill you easy. way easier than swine flu.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

week nine

2009-04-17T21:46:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

sometimes i lie...
and sometimes i read blogs
and i write down the names of people
whose entries i don't like and then i look them up on facebook
and then i kill them...
but sometimes i lie...
sometimes.

dane cannon

_________________________________________

on being an inner-city pre-school teacher

i know you are full of all the rage your small body can hold
that you want to kick me in the shin and throw a handful of dirt
but you just used all your force to unfairly push down a peer of yours
no, it doesn’t matter that he was on the swing and you wanted it too.

so I need you to say you are sorry.
no, try it again, say you are sorry like you mean it.
even though you don’t, and you won’t anytime soon.
but say it like you mean it, because statistically speaking,
in a few years, you will be a parent, shoot someone,
steal something, and drop out of high school.
you are supposed to do things wrong and not feel any remorse
and go to jail where you will learn your lesson.
and you are so much better than that.
so please, I beg you, say you are sorry like you mean it,
because maybe, if I make you insincerely say
it a 1000 times, you will learn to mean it,
and your apologies and penitence
will stay right here, on the playground.

megan morton

_________________________________________

an ode

dang little barbie mustang
so fast so smooth
until you met your fate in wendover
where all joy rides must end
curse the world

(photo taken yesterday in wendover nv)

myron nilsson

_________________________________________

a leaf that has lost its color

at least when it began to die
it had a brilliant display of color -
"going out with a bang," they'd say.

now it's just a stiff and wrinkled frame
in parts almost see-through -
hanging on for hanging on's sake.

in months past it hadn't cared about the storms,
not pausing its photosynthesis
as it was battered and bent and blown.

but today, more likely than not,
it will fall to less than a slight wind -
it will fall to a nothing.

just the passing thought of a breeze
and the holding on will seem too much,
the stem giving a final sigh as it slips.

and the branch rises an indiscernible millimeter
as it is relieved of a fifth an ounce.

i'm one of those kids

i "ruin" the carefully prepared cake
by eating it with a spoon

and pick out all the good laffy taffys,
leaving a bowl of yellows.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

i was one of the lucky ones
born with it
red stuff sitting up there on top of my head.
wavin, grabbin, teasin, and pleasin.
it's hard to get, but easy to have.
you love it, you hate it, they want it, i got it.

holly jo hackett

_________________________________________

neccessary

i used to cheat on my spelling tests in the first grade
and i must have been cursed for it because to this day
i still wonder every time if i am spelling 'necessary' right.

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

would you rather be a rapping turtle,
or a rapper who can only make turtle noises?

rory bruggeman

_________________________________________

don't get sassy with me

don't get sassy with me
"there are mosquitoes in here", she says

-is this bit senseless because i'm actually not that creative and so i attempt to confuse in hopes that no meaning is interpreted as meaningful and insightful?
this jib is up!
i'm so elite that i insult myself over and over.

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

ming song wang
noodle noodle bang

++anonymous++

_________________________________________

ten person bicycle

ever since i was 9 years old i have collected firearms

my only requirement for the firearms i collect is that

they are taller than me when held vertically

nothing better than a big gun

except big guns with big ammunition

you can get a lot of killing done when you have a big gun

with big bullets

and a big attitude

man i have a big attitude

the only thing better than a big gun with big bullets is

my big attitude

and a bunch of hamburger in the shape of a cat

chris duce

_________________________________________

pipe dreams

it came like lighting
we all cheered
even the dead danced.
and now the moment you've all been waiting for...
it was all just plastic.

acquiescence of evil

it was inside intellectual exhibitionism
and colloquial drivel.
inside draconian laws
and copious hours of work.
inside hyperbolic phrases
and vacuous chit chat.
we all saw it
and just continued on.
the devil really was in the details.
and so it shows...

ricky cheney

_________________________________________

shine on me

week nine is thyme
week nine is myne

nah nah dippin dah

i want to swim
i want with jim

she's a swiggin her coke and
man such a joke

why's she willy
all she wants to tilly

is about her week nine
so so fine
wish it was twine

to look so shine - ee

this is my poet tree tea
oh austybaby
enjoy and sip sip

here's the tina fey show....

my foot is an anchor and no one cares
it's sleeping
just like my heart
just like my tongue
take it away, i don't want to be down

lindsey williams

_________________________________________

week eight

2009-04-11T17:10:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

let's suppose for one moment that it was actually raining men.

rory bruggeman

_________________________________________

skull truck

my eyes are like two overweight astronauts

nobody wants to put them on a rocket

not even a really big one

i know that nobody believes me, but its extremely

disheartening

now, the only way i'm going to cheer up is if you buy

me the full house complete series collection

and its $109.99 on amazon

thats a lot of money!

the only way i'm going to be able to afford it is if i sell

a lot more plasma

and we all know that i probably shouldn't be donating anyways

because i answer no

when i should answer yes

its so easy to lie to a nurse that only gets paid like 7 dollars

an hour

chris duce

_________________________________________

somebody's game

. a crawling ant
moving through the endless grass field
. it climbs a plant -
a lone dandelion revealed
only to the ant's sense of feel.

. the young boy
also crawling (but smashing too)
. finds such joy
'bove the ant to see what he'll do
confronting each obstacle new.

. total power
the boy shakes the small ant off each
. conquered flower
and makes a new stronghold to breach
while coaching him with unheard speech.

. and then who knows
if some great being from on high
. or down below
is laughing, unseen to our eyes,
playing the same game with our lives.

beach #3

if life is a beach
then you must be the horses
that crap on the beach

homework

i should be working
hard on my final paper,
not writing haikus

easter

because of easter
i was completely convinced
that rabbits laid eggs

aye

somali pirates -
jack sparrows of '09.
a modern black pearl.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

just some get words

all my memories feel like dreams.
i'm tired of living in the abstract.
all my purchases are selling my soul.
i'm tired of seeing my surroundings in dollars.
all my friends have four legs,
some just use two for the ground.
all my thoughts want to be born,
just some get words.

ricky cheney

_________________________________________

easter brunch

will you be my dead beat boyfriend?
your baby blues and tattoos

i will be your life ceded girlfriend
my own vehicle and grad school

breanne chipman

_________________________________________

dear bastard who broke in,

you tried to corner me in my room. you tried to intimidate me in my house.
may the good lord show you no mercy, cause i certainly won't.

if you come again, i will open a large can of whoopass.
literally, whoopass(tm) pepper spray.

oh, as a post script, i saw your face. does that make you nervous, just a little?

never yours,

jana kopeinig

_________________________________________

untitled #1; or, it's got layers

"slow motion fo' may" said mc botecelli, the rapping turtle

chris crosby

_________________________________________

mattress

she expels the light in hopes of feeling.
in the dark she rests easy
and her feet are barely moving...
there is a basement with the mattress on the ground
its form is fit and the pillow stains are maintained by tears
and he spent his time lying at her side
but his ignorance not helping
unable to fully sense the pain she was exerting
and now the regrets that are regrettable
are useless because both their feet
refuse to move to what is needed
and each stay alone in the basement
with a mattress on the ground.

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

the difference between a writer and someone else

i can’t write right now.
ugh, that write next to the right,
that can not be write, I mean right.
i can not be clever write now.

i can’t write imagery right now,
i can not aid my graphite tool to evade the
blankness of the blue lined bunk-bed paper.
i am too tired to be creative.

i can’t possibly stay focused on the one topic,
of not being able to write,
not being able to communicate the sincere ideas and
unique truths that only i possess.
i am too distracted right now.

and worst of all, i do not know of a time
when i will be more clever, less tired,
less distracted.
therefore, i shall never write.

megan morton

_________________________________________

i wonder what it was like before this life.....
like how old was i?... and did i live in the presence
of heavenly angels?
when did my soul enter my body?... and did it travel far?
is there time between premortal life and birth? and if so -
would i have been quick enough
to push right left down up a b start?
and what if i did that,
shouldn't i technically be buddhist then?
so much to ponder

rich curtis

_________________________________________

dear new girl,

i dont care
that you're from austin.
it doesn't make you a badass.
i dont care
that you read watchmen before the movie came out.
the movie sucked anyways.
i dont care
that all you drink is diet coke.
i hate hearing you open it every ten minutes. stop it.
i dont care
that you have stds. gross. do not tell me that.
grow up. and keep your pants on.
i dont care
that you're pissed when i tell you what to do.
you're new. i'm not. get over it.
but i do care
that you're nice to me. thanks. keep it up.
sincerely,

anonymous

_________________________________________

star light star bright,
the first star i see tonight,
i wish i may, i wish i might,
but please don't let it be tonight

++anonymous++

_________________________________________

i dream about driving.
solely for the scenery and solitude.
i even considered a career in
trucking - a truly taxing trade.
i imagine
me, with windows wound down,
the road reaching out,
and steely dan singing to my soul.
perfection.
the lone liability of this livelihood
(that i can think through)
is how big my butt would be.

lissa kennedy

_________________________________________

spring cleaning

i started spring cleaning yesterday

of my room and my life.

there were three bins:

keep.

throw out.

donate.

books that i intend on reading. keep.

a circus clown trying to juggle me and another girl. throw out.

old running shirts. donate.

my retainer. throw out.

boy who gives me butterflies. keep.

notes from jr. high. throw out.

old mission clothes. donate.

an actor for a friend. throw out.

my vital organs. donate. if not needed.

mom who loves unconditionally. keep.

memory of him. want to throw out, but keep.

memory of you and me, us. keep. forever.

self assessment

i self assessed me last week.

because i desire to be happier.

happier than who, im not sure.

so i made lists.

lists of things i need to do

things i want to do

and things i need to stop

there were different areas of focus

physical

mental

spiritual

emotional

social

each area had sub categories

the lists grew and grew.

i felt overwhelmed.

i had so much to do,

so much to change.

the lists were all i thought about.

i kept adding to the list.

changing the list.

every time i saw someone

who seemed happier than i

i assessed them,

then assessed the list.

i didn't know where to stop

or start.

i hated the list.

then one day i went to add to the list

i couldn't find it. nowhere. gone.

i couldn't remember all the areas and categories

that i needed to change

and all of a sudden i felt so much

happier.

aly cain

_________________________________________

the unknown

sometimes a panic washes over me...
that in 6 months, who knows where i'll be.
graduation is coming in just a few weeks,
and a new chapter begins of endless possibilities.

bianca merkely

_________________________________________

week seven

2009-04-01T20:16:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

sue

i fell out of your tree can cut open my leg;
i slept at your house every birthday eve;
your basement terrified me.
my drawings of yin-yangs and soccer balls were still up
in your vacant home
the night you fell.
i wasn't there to comfort you,
like you were for me.
you used to cut comics out of the paper,
but only the wittiest.
i can't believe i used to love your repugnant
tuna/cheezewhiz sandwiches.
i'd eat one right now though to have you back.
i'd stomach twenty of them to see you for an hour.
please god.
let me be twelve, let me have my embarrassing bull-cut,
let me go to the park with her.
we'd go to the rocket park
and the one with the long slide.
i'd sleep over and let you tuck me in.
i'd play on the swings over the ditch for hours
until you called me in for dinner,
standing at the door in your white velcro shoes.
please god.
let me slip through a chasm in time
from this zeitgeist of malaise
for one ephemeral visit
to that place unadulterated.
please god.

ricky cheney

_________________________________________

4/1/09 haiku

fake gmail accounts
serve for the creation of
many april fools

when i'm a doctor...

april 1st, 2023: hello mr maxwell. my name is doctor hackett. i'm sorry to write you at such short notice, but we have a dire emergency. your sister is here in the emergency room in utah, and she has a rapidly progressing disease that requires a kidney transplant. we have reviewed your family history and found that your precise blood match makes you the best donor candidate. since time is short, we ask you to please go immediately to your local emergency room and have them remove one of your kidneys and life flight it on ice here to salt lake city. your rapid cooperation is essential to the well-being of your dear sister. you are a brave man, mr maxwell. we thank and applaud you.

april 2nd, 2023: hello mr maxwell. april fools! enclosed is your kidney.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

freedom

freedom, freedom
sometimes i wish that freedom would tell me what to say
and point me int he direction that i have to take
i guess that's the price you pay for freedom, freedom

liberty, liberty
sometimes i wish that she would force me to go the right way
so if i made a mistake, i'd have her to blame
guess that's the price you pay for liberty, liberty

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

love at first sight

i suppose its possible.
but i'm not holding my breath.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

eek

i thought that there twisted in thought
was why wrinkles
could come
about as i asked anything and all about a
long lived lovely ludicrous lucky lustful life...

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

my best friend is an anorexic cyclops

on tuesdays i walk to the wash hut
completely undressed
on wednesdays i walk to in the venue
alongside carter as he rides his bike
on saturdays i make out with my ex girlfriend
in washington
i think i would do anything to make out with a girl
the only thing better than making out with girls is this

chris duce

_________________________________________

i was driving home late at night and i was stopped by a red light. i looked both ways and there was nothing else for miles. the crosswalk signal changed and a dog crossed the road. What kind of dog uses the crosswalk? as he passed he looked at me like I was crazy, so i yelled that he was the crazy one!

jimmy bunting (submitted by myron)

_________________________________________

just a reminder

i got a reminder this week.
it was just one reminder
but it reminded me of a lot.
it reminded me to buy tampons.
which reminded me that i have no money.
that reminded me to get a job.
it reminded me of my level of pain tolerance.
that reminded me to take pain killers.
they make my stomach hurt if i don't ear
so it reminded me to eat.
it reminded me that when i eat
it makes me sick in every way possible.
that reminded me to take pepto and pain killers.
it reminded me to get the heating pad out.
that i am dependent on it for some form of relief.
it reminded me that i have a sex.
that i am different than those business men.
it reminded me that
in this world of equality
that i am not equal, i am superior
i have to be reminded every month
that i possess more power than they ever will
it reminded me that i can create life,
once i remembered that
i forgot all the rest

aly cain

_________________________________________

week six

2009-03-27T19:21:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

...someday the ice will melt to reveal its dead.

regan fred johnson

_________________________________________

they say that time plays upon the seasons with god at its helm
others say that winter's fate is controlled by a groundhog.
i'm going to go with my instincts on this one.
punxsutawney phil, you rascal you.

rich curtis

_________________________________________

dictionary.com blues, march 22-29

it is feckless to us to feign a velleity of meeting, continuously avoiding propinquity and pithy talk. osculation is its own thaumaturgy, and we are changed. get over it.

chris crosby

_________________________________________

indie

the new vintage is 'future'...
american apparel is the future abercrombie & fitch...hipsters are beggining to scoff...
anorexic is the new indie...
bi is the new indie...
making fun of indie is the new indie.

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

dear conceited coworker,

just because i called you out on being an obvious creep who does chin-ups in our office doorways, eats nothing but eggwhites, color codes his work-out work attire (i believe today is purple?), and hits on every person with boobs in this office, does not mean that you have to cry in your pants and ignore me. or maybe it does. i don't really miss your one-liners.

sincerely,

anonymous

_________________________________________

i wonder who decided that those big inflatable balloons that don't really resemble humans "dancing" were genius marketing tools.
i wonder how much of a car dealership's budget is devoted to them. i wonder how much money any one person has made off of them. seriously.

sara thomas

_________________________________________

one call, that's all

once a week i end up in the bathroom in the middle of the night
on the phone
with my attorney
and i'm like, "i'll sue you."
and he's all like, "you can't sue me. i'm your father."
and i'm all like, "well then give me back my childhood!"
and then he reminds me that he was a stay at home dad and we did everything together while i was growing up
and when i get off the phone
i go back to bed, but it's not the same
cause i can't seem to find that comfortable spot i was in
before i needed to make that phone call
and the drool on my pillow case
is already cold and gross to lay on.
i miss college.

chris duce

_________________________________________

homage to the dubious

exogenous, androgynous me.
the hair in the sink alone is self-evident.
"of what?"
get over yourself. you're just a hoax, your wit
an insidious malady.
remember that rather poignant slap in the face?
your own brother.
"i detest all that is paltry, all that is cruel."
just how auspicious or ominous were the tears?
through osmosis
i've become what i hate.
i don't need another remedy.
don't cure me.
there is no paragon,
no panacea.
i need no savior, no rescue boat.
the storm is never as voracious
as its campaign declares.
"and if?"
if i drown before i wake, i pray the lord
my soul to.. to..
to free.

ricky cheney

_________________________________________

yeah right

lauren swainston

_________________________________________

whatever

colin pinegar

_________________________________________

this week; or, the anti-cancun

5 days of school
workworkwork
7 hour mcat prep class
no babes
spring break '09!!!!!!!

it ended quietly

he always imagined saying something memorable at the end,
something that his children would carry with them
and repeat to their children in a bedside moment.

but instead, the last thing he did before he died
was notice the leaves outside his window,
and how when the wind blew

they would cross back and forth over a beam of light
that hit his wall through a slit in the curtain
and make a bright spot fade in and out.

"it's like morse code,"
he thought to himself...

two new haikus for you

visit

why are you surprised?
i've been talking of coming.
well, never out loud...

first thing

save some juice for me -
i need it in the morning
to kill the sleep taste.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

miss spelled

i am lying here in beded in my pillows.
i think i sea a see monster.
here it? their it is, the water.
ewe, just missed her tale.
know, i was wrong.
you aren't hear.
no eye
can't see i
lost what i had with you.
you tolled me
no, your leaving.
now. i'm back.
and see monsters.
i maid it up.
to get you to
here.
to sea.
that i like
you steal
my heart.
this is what i put myself
threw out the night.
tired of playing this
role over and try to sleep.

aly cain

_________________________________________

week five

2009-03-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

minor course corrections

perhaps there are some things better left unsaid.
"i have to paint you" is one of them.

systemic symphony

oh what spirit of anatomic vernacular!
nervous and his wit!
cardiovascular, oh what rhythm!
pituitary and her dews from heaven!
skeletal, what poise!
muscular, etched from the artisan's chisel!
integumentary and its legions of follicles!
lymphatic, less known but still very important
and digestive.... oh digestive
the ugly duckling that brings energy to all!

rich curtis

_________________________________________

palinopsia; or, i have worm poison in my brain

a worm put a toxin on my optic nerve -
which really is not much trouble,
cuz instead of hurting some crucial bit,
it just makes me see things double.

each stimulus that hits my eye
sends two signals to my brain.
the second is much weaker, though -
its image is rather faint.

it doesn't bother me any more,
(my worm-induced mind antic)
and in fact i've come to realize
that it can be romantic.

cuz when you walk by a normal guy
his one look must suffice,
but when your face crosses my view,
i get to see it twice.

austinrory hackett

editor's note: i really did get palinopsia in paraguay, and will have it my whole life

_________________________________________

involuntary assisted suicide

driving down the highway
good music and my mom's car
someone following too close.
there is something in my lane.
a quail.
it's a quail.
i think he is staring at me.
walking towards me. why?
move. please move.
i knew it was either his tail
or mine.
i used to think that fingernails
on a chalkboard was the worst sound.
not anymore.

aly cain

_________________________________________

i would give the world

neruda and saadi
to melt an angry heart

lindsay lark
to show a genuine soul

rock 'n roll
to displace restless fear

a silly love poem

they saw each other in a small cafe,
she sketched his image and he looked away.
her strokes 'came more desperate,
and he less perceptive,
as she loved from afar
and he kept it at bay.

jana kopeinig

_________________________________________

i have a.d.d.

email sarah about cd...
get distracted with email from sister...
post a comment on family blog while at it...
read the elite no-caps writing blog...
look up the meaning of coagulation...
re-read austin's email...
make first post on elite no-caps writing blog...
go back to finishing email to sarah about cd two hours later.

bianca merkley

_________________________________________

more

recently i have wanted to pray more.
not just more often but more deeply.
more heartfelt.
more of me.

so i was praying and praying -
releasing all of my thoughts in my head.
the ones that had been there for a long time and the ones
that had just arrived.

and i was praying and praying
and it felt so good.
then before i could stop myself,
i said the word "damn"

and i stopped.
and i was quiet.
then i kept praying because i knew
god was still listening

megan morton

_________________________________________

two ships, it's dark

it's a grip of one side
and a single mind refuses
to aim for balance
and as these ships pass in the dark
the weight of one side causes us to sink
and we look up with hateful eyes
waving a fist full of disgust
and before we realize we're dead
we remember how right we are.
so our refusal to meditate
and our persistence of hate
will not be a legacy remembered,
but just another
sunken ship forgotten on the ocean floor.

erik fullmer

_________________________________________

kitty glitter

right now i'm in vegas
but i forgot to bring a shirt
so none of these damn buffets will serve me
but the women will.
i'm the sexiest thing in vegas.

chris duce

_________________________________________

as a fan of the biggest loser, i wonder if these enormously obese people really understand what they are doing. in the course of a few months they divide their person by 3. in other words, what was once three people is now one person. i wonder if they have phantom limb syndrome where they go to scratch a portion of their abdomen and it's not there anymore.

dave anderson

_________________________________________

when i'm at work, i often say out loud, "i'm going to shoot myself in the head." when i said it today i realized how gross that would be. really messy.

when i go in public bathrooms and there is someone sitting in their stall waiting for me to leave so they can poop alone i want to say, "listen, i don't mind if i hear you poop. everyone poops." but instead i just take my dear sweet time so they have to hold it even longer.

i watched man on wire. i think phillipe petit is an arrogant butthole. i just looked up how to spell arrogant.

anonymous

_________________________________________

laziness: a case study

human hungers

human approaches large plastic bag full of rolls

human observes separation between hand and roll by plastic

human perceives twist tie concealment device

human contemplates intellectual and temporal sacrifice of operating and conquering intricate twist tie concealment device

human alternatively impales plastic bag with fist

human retrieves roll

human rejoices

bradley call barth

_________________________________________

i have never wanted something so bad
and been so far away from having it

++anonymous++

_________________________________________

jimminy cricket

i'd like to think
that everything happens for a reason

that serendipity is a true principle

that love at first sight
isn't something people lie about

that angels do get their wings
at the sound of a bell

that when someone says, i love you,
they really do

that my dreams tell the future

that eyelashes, wishing well pennies,
birthday candles, first star i see tonight,
really grant wishes

that fairies die
when someone stops believing

i'd like to believe
but i've recently stepped on my cricket

trav clark

_________________________________________

communication is contingent upon branching these empty/full expanses through words or physical projections.

lauren swainston

_________________________________________

puddle of love

one year i never missed a single day of school.
on wet days we feared the dangerous tricking pools.
so class stayed in and we sat on our floor,
silently tossed a ball while outside it poured.

on the bus ride home i sat behind my crush
enjoying the storm, watching the grass turn to mush
i opened the window and she started to laugh
as water squeezed through the crack and pelted my lap.

i smiled while the bus gracefully slid to my stop
there my brother waited to save me from the drops.
my friends ran with backpacks over their heads
as my brother started the car, turned to me and said...

watch this.

the car took off before i could buckle
my brother grinned and aimed for the puddle.
my poor little heart broke knowing i could not save
my one true love from a tidal wave.

myron nilsson

_________________________________________

footloose. 2009 for all you suckas

this week
i longed for a peek
at what is ahead,
spent too little time in bed.
celebrated my heritage with a keg,
of which we're still polishing off the dregs
(this is the remix y'all, this is the remix)
ate overrated pizza friday, and that's about it,
saturday dropped fire down a bottomless pit,
(ooooh shorty, drop it like fire down a bottomless pit, shorty)

chris crosby

_________________________________________

usurp and abdicate

we's can't pay no risin' mortgage
we ain't gunna toil n'more
we don't understand no credit, no numbers, no recession
we does understands dat we wurk!
ya they's got figures in accounts n' fast cars,
well we's got's numbers. we is numbers!
we's fast too n'stronga den dollas.
we's jus' waitin fur wall street tuh burn,
we's waitin fur their accounts tuh drain.
we's ain't gunna rule aftuh
we ain't no vanguard
we's not elite
we is you.
we's gunna take power then deestroy it.
we's all really duh same ya know,
we is just you.

euphemism isms

i'll trade you one
capitalism and one neo-liberalism
for one real-equal-opportunity-ism
and one feed-the-whole-world-ism.
deal?

ricky cheney

_________________________________________

week four

2009-03-09T12:26:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

(1) notification

no new friend
not a tagged photo
no group or party invite
one new message.

today facebook told me that my friend had died.
and this time there was no decline button.

megan morton

________________________________________

frustration

around around in circles it goes.
an outward expression of inner discontent.
giving the tip a lick might do the trick
but the empty circles continue.
my frenzied wrist could use a rest
and while cursing bic i must attest
that this pen sucks!

richard curtis

________________________________________

haiku pick-up lines

i have the high score
on all my friends' iphone games.
you wanna go out?

i guarantee that
i'm better than your boyfriend
at everything.

hey - you're that one girl
i follow ev'ry tuesday
between my classes.

hello. my name is
austin and i'm pretty sure
you have the best face.

i already know
ev'rything you like to do.
i facebooklove you.

austinrory hackett

________________________________________

brad barth

________________________________________

addiction

not to be aided but i'm dependent
not to be able to break away from these carcinogens
something is beating in my body
and my clock says it's time
in the night is when i'm vulnerable
in the dark is when i trip
and i don't know when this fall will end.

erik fullmer

________________________________________

chase mcmillan has a funny name

ace mc-killin', star ship commander,
space mc-thrillin' cosmic ladies,
sack rac on the mc-hillin'
disgraced by mc-pill-poppin,
base mc-stealin'
mason jar mc-dill picklin'

chris crosby

________________________________________

of a certian age

i contemplate my situation
how better to describe - stagnation or coagulation?

experience and daydreams slow down
still here, but few and farther between

sara thomas

________________________________________

rory bruggeman

________________________________________

i've started trying to convince some people that post postings in the missed connections on craigslist that i'm their actual missed connection... it's kind of boring... people aren't as open to their posts being open to interpretation as one might expect.

mainly i just have fun googling them and seeing what type of person actually postst there... in case you're wondering what type of person does post on the missed connections, it's this type of person: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0769901/

i briefly considered asking her for a job.

dane cannon

________________________________________

memory-ism

my roommate has a clock
on which is engraved,
life is not measured by minutes,
but by memories.

this is offensive to old human beings
who have a lot of minutes
under their belt
but struggle with memory.

be more sensitive.
bigot.
xenophobe.
memory-ist!

ricky cheney

________________________________________

2 months 2 go

two of my best friends are getting married
and one of them has been doing a lot of sit-ups
so that he can be really buff for his wedding night.
little does he know that his fiance likes a little bit
of a chubby stomach
and each sit up buries him even deeper
in a hole of disappointment
and a lot of dvd watching
on their honeymoon.

chris duce

________________________________________

mushrash
mustache
must stash
mus tash
my stash
musk ash

mustachio

++anonymous++

________________________________________

week three

2009-03-08T14:04:00.000-07:00

_________________________________________

sometimes you reach in
expecting a gummie bear
but get a skittle

eleanor kramer

_________________________________________

jana kopeinig

_________________________________________

watch guys

what if the movie watchmen was
just about two jehova's witness missionaries
who get captured by a vietnamese gang
and teach themselves martial arts
in order to fight them
and escape?

chris duce

_________________________________________

the past

history.
his-story.
i want her story.

un charter

if we furled one another's fur
to reconcile conflicts,
like primates,
we'd be at peace.

student "politics"

i got offered to get "smoked out"
to vote for a party. they were also cooking flesh
on a grill
for free.
free meat and weed? count me in!

ricky cheney

_________________________________________

accomplishments in particular order

this week i:
made a new friend
didn't trim my own bangs
watched most of a basketball game
willingly consumed at least four zinc lozenges
played key role in gum ball/cupcake scenario
read the first chapter of a historical romance novel
decided what i want to be when i grow up
redeemed myself for aforesaid reading material by finishing truman capote "novel"
brought my love of all things kelly clarkson out in the open

sara thomas

_________________________________________

writer's block

poetry is........
is long........no wait
poetry is........
is hard........no.....
poetry is........
is useless.....maybe
poetry is........
is without.....not really
poetry is........
is inspired......close
poetry is........
is thought.......wait
poetry is.......................eureka!
poetry is long, hard, and useless without inspired thought.

rich curtis

_________________________________________

cinquains - cinco of them

hate

here are
some things i hate:
your answering machine,
bands that rhyme with ickleback,
whole milk.

cling on this

star trek
for some people
is way better than friends,
dating, college, hygiene, life, and
star wars.

nighttime

sleeping -
that special time
when you are paralyzed,
helpless and hallucinating......
sweet dreams.

just go

cross walks
give me power.
i want to go - you'll stop.
i'm not even gonna look up -
deal with't.

(+)

protons
in solution
binding with anything -
tossed from one acid to the next.
what sluts.

austinrory hackett

_________________________________________

i just gotta be mE!

dane cannon

__________________________________________

mexico

i give you good price, one dollar
it's real silver... no? ok, maybe not
nobody buys this @#%! anyway
what i'm really selling is pot

carter nelson

__________________________________________

ode

with you,
i dreamed of going to the zoo
maybe even entering the wu

you taught me to shimmy
shimmy ya, yam, yea
and get that cream night n' day

you've gone the way of the earth
but i still remember dirt mcgirt

...or should i say big baby jesus
either way

r.i.p. o.d.b

breanne chipman

__________________________________________

i've been thinking a lot about what to write over the past couple weeks. i didn't submit anything because nothing really came to mind. i thought that maybe it should be something funny. i thought that maybe it should be about one of the many heartaches. i thought that maybe it needed to be really creative. i thought that maybe it should be about the scared and anxious anxieties that most of us are probably feeling about one or more aspects of our lives. i thought that maybe i could just write down song lyrics that convey the feelings i have better than i can. etc etc. the more i thought about it, the more none of these things seemed like a good idea. maybe next week.

for now, i think i'm supposed to worry a little more about everyone else, and a little less about myself.

++anonymous++

__________________________________________

misfits post-danzig.
henry rollins in black flag.
march, two-thousand nine.

colin pinegar

__________________________________________

rory bruggeman

__________________________________________