an attempt not to line up all the ducks
A short poem by renown dancer and poet Christin Call.
Dog Walk Matins
Pam Hobart Carter brings to you an elegaic reminder of how after great pain a formal feeling comes.
From An Old Lover
Her letter drifted across an empty sky,
a night shadow dragging its feet behind
a wandering cloud. Striations on the walls
of arroyos mark the arid years…
Study for Righteousness
One angel holds my feet
while the other two each
a hand and touch my head
ArtsCorps Student Showcase: Watering the Grassroots
Virtually every good citizen is aware of the massive cuts made to arts funding and arts education on a national scale over the past twenty years. Fewer people, however, are aware of the immense disparity between the haves and the have nots when it comes to the education their children receive in the arts. For that reason, programs like ArtsCorps have always been of utmost importance to me.
Apology
I apologize for finding this dog to shadow
you even as you pace the attic from desk
to window, you and he, a pair now, contemplating
those tough computer programming issues
at which dogs notoriously shine.
Tell Me the Hurt Thing
Push number four because the stairs are murder: a crooked rattle-
snake spine, windows painted shut, walls twice papered over,
built into catacombs you’re sure they know by heart: busted hall
lights & pitch dark landings, cul-de-sacs colored a murderous
blood-red.
Before the rhytidectomy
Assuage their vanity with tools of
rhetoric and anything
they pay to hear; sacrifice
the flesh as a halal butcher
hangs carcasses
to a commercial god.
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