A Bad Monday
by Natalie D., Rio Oso, CA
My fingertips run their own electricity bill
My stomach has lost its appetite,
Running the risk of being ill.
It's amazing how unpatterned
The bathroom tile looks
When I'm sitting here,
Cutting class with all my books.
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Along the Canal Path
by Kaela N., Lambertville, NJ
A boy is walking with the weeds
pushing up from the train rail's slats
Snagging his faded corduroy,
tangling
his fear into a withering.
The air is sharp and wet, he
smells autumn and Upstate
New York unpaved back roads.
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Aqueous Reflection
by Mike A., San Antonio,, TX
I don't mean to sound generic.
But I guess I may be as generic,
As the pains in my chest,
When looking back,
On the bubbles of the water,
Forming a contour around your beautiful arms.
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Autumn Senses
by Fernando W., Louisville, KY
fresh cool breezes bring autumn senses to life
with the smells of expired leaves
and small fish schools
leaving imprints along the tops of streams,
and lakes slowly reach their peak
with the sounds of rushing water
flowing over rocks echoing through meadows,
but still allowing ...
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Blind Times of Steady
by Sean S., Abington, MA
And who's to say?
I feel for you, you for me
I feel the real, It's killing me.
A vision we glue by shackled eyes
yes.
H-A-T-E in L-O-V-E
yes.
L-O-V-E in H-A-T-E
yet.
glued to a vision.
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Broken Hallelujah
by Megan K., Healdsburg, CA
Turn stale knob of radio on, effortless
crack of the wrist: infamous words pour
out ripped speakers, a hole-punched
reservoir.
Such a chatterbox -
gibberish sentences incomprehensible to
ears and mind (a shortage in the circuit),
letters squashed like sardines.
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Considering Anna (On Suicide Hold)
by Katie M., Oshkosh, WI
Yellow cotton drapes you
in your hesitant stride
from bed to yawning window.
Shaky hands press
the iced glass.
Heat spills from your palms
in foggy puddles
to frame the tiny print
of your hands on a
sweaty window.
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Irony
by Jennifer T., Street, MD
The shards of glass littered the cold, black asphalt
like sparkling stars strewn across the night sky.
Their brilliance catching the corner of my eye,
making me slow down, just to look at them a little longer.
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Late Night Diners With No One Eating
by Jen C., Califon, NJ
Noticing your eyes roll across your half-empty cup of coffee
Blatantly stating you wanted something more
Your friends aren't good
At keeping you surprised - I'm not very good
At charades anymore.
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Leaving
by Sarah H., Redondo Beach, CA
How to leave scars:
If you ask Mother,
she'll tell you it isn't very hard
in easy quiet ways
with love or something similar
like maternal instinct
like crescent crevices, red
and left by fingernails
like swallowing sweat
like her mother
and hers
like feet flattened ...
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Motel 6 Mother
by Alex C., Ft. Lauderdale, FL
Cigarette in hand
She drank to the night
And bled silver sequins and fluorescent Vegas signs
Thankless fingers diamond-lined
Traced the edges of dish-washed paper cup
So hungry for absolution she lapped old lovers up
She fervently wished love canned
Over counter dinner ...
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My Girl
by Casey H., Midlothian, VA
Heady scent of honeysuckle
Wing coughed silently
Tangled in chains of ivy
Tease a lonely tire swing
Oppressed by the heat
Choked by a single yellow thread
But meant to fly
Next to animal-shaped clouds
Crowned in the kingdom of dreams
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Night Quiet
by Melissa S., Cincinnati, OH
i lose my thoughts of you from far topped hotels.
blasted pavement below ...
from a time brighter than now.
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Procession in the Garden
by Avery H., Cincinnati, OH
I wore my lavender pajamas
As I waltzed above the chives.
My feet barely touching the ground,
I have to stop bouncing,
In order to bow deeply,
To the incoming
Parade
Of ants.
I thought I saw the Queen;
She was wearing a lavender petal crown.
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Refuge
by Breanne M., Stafford, VA
If I could I would live here.
Between the ruddiness and rusted pages.
I would sleep with Mark Twain.
And get lost between the covers
With Whitman and Poe.
Twisting fate into burning embers of Bradbury.
I would set up camp with Huxley in a far corner.
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Runt
by Lisa B., Londonderry, NH
I don't appreciate your selfish
evolution;
The way your skin grows thicker,
And your eyes mirror the winter cold,
And the way you adapt to flights of
fancy
That rip out my core when they slam
the door behind them.
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Tar Heel in Exile
by Julia M., Silver Spring, MD
For all my salty summer curls
like sunshine against my Carolina blues
For all my moments as a child
of the sky that stretches my eyes as wide as my dreams
For all my front porches and scrub pines
that grow from my belly and stretch to the sun
like the tangles of my secret ...
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Trying to Remember
by Ivy Marie S., Loganville, WI
You wouldn't stop
talking about the things happening now
But I was here
dead skin and skeleton frame
but finally alive
and I just wanted to let the ghosts tell me
all about the past.
but you didn't care
'cause the basketball hoops were new.
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Winter Memories
by Lauren D., Millis, MA
The snow was falling gently,
falling all around,
bitter cold hung in the air,
as thick snow tumbled down.
The lake had frozen over,
the geese soon took their flight,
pine trees beribboned themselves
with heavy cloaks of white.
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