Report Card Prison

A Poem by Korea J. Brownstein

One door opens.
What I thought I should have done
Sticks in my side.
I could have done better–
I thought I did enough.
It wasn’t what they wanted.
I didn’t do enough

The door opens
I want to get through.
I say that I can learn,
But I cannot.
Numbers surrounds me
Like dirty clouds,
like dirty words.
I’m confined.

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Veterans Cemetery

A Poem by Donal Mahoney

Families come
on Memorial Day
depending on the weather;
otherwise the Fourth of July,
if it’s not too hot.

You can hear them coming,
adults in the rear,
reminiscing and talking,
children who can read
announcing the names
on the stones until they
discover the right one.
Then they shout.

Adults bring flowers,
placing them softly
in front of the stones
near our heads.
Children stick little
flags from parades
in our waistlines.

Some ladies bring towels
and wipe down the stones;
others towelettes to remove
gunk from the lettering.

All mean well and we
appreciate the visit and wish
we could say something.
It’s a thrill to hear voices.
Otherwise it’s lawn mowers,
leaf blowers, snow plows
the rest of the year.

Untitled

A Poem by Randall Rogers

the minds
of madness

made

in complete

the offal

and where will you/we

be when it all starts

again

before
it hasn’t

begun

after the finish

which is nice

for a while

rest. free dream

before not begun again
begin

The dying Field. Renewing

again

a Shiva wheel

stuck
page won’t display

grey

goo

and hallo

to all of you
unformed uniformed
incontinent
unpossibilities

waiting

to bust out

of jail.

yeah, where to come

before I guess we gotta go

or do something

no change

is coinless

boring
a coverup
to convince

thinkin’’

don’t think

with no head peace.
Oye.