vocabulary
lapidarius aspect
there's one in us all.
a mountain of words
oh that diamond polisher
there's one in us all
A blanket laying, book-reading, lemonade sipper
turns a page
There is a ghost of sadness in this place
shared madness, despair and rage
Somewhere in the sandy and dreaded dune
convicted breath feels as warm as the month of June
She feels the depression that once enveloped
a once upon a time, mild-mannered man’s illness
Now there is only stillness and something
in the Saugatuck breeze that feels like a gasp
Old scribbles on his walls of silence
seemed, or once was deemed prophetic
“I was wasted just like today was”
a mother’s son whiled away the time
Too forsaken and forgotten to find rhyme
abbreviated sighs and another day’s tally mark
For him, fate…
the future came much too late
The unholy hole handed a mother’s son the shivers
Her lemonade is coldly soothing
sour moments taken in without regrets
Moving her toes in the warm sands once tread
by a man with invasive demons in his head
It is oddly unclear what once happened here.
She turns another page long after he could have.
Fred visits Bill every month at
the facility he’s been in for years.
Age and booze brought Bill there.
He's still strapped to his bed
so he can't go wandering again
when he gets a taste for a beer.
Bill calls Fred by name this time
and asks if Jim has found a job.
Fred tells Bill no but doesn't
remind him their cousin is dead.
All three would go fishing as kids
for bluegill, crappie and catfish
with cane poles in summer.
There’d be a big family fish fry.
Bill says he’s going home soon
but there is no home to go to.
His trailer was sold long ago
to help pay the bill at the facility
where every so often nurses
turn him to avoid bed sores.
The state checks for those.
A license can be suspended.
Donal Mahoney
4/15/17
Skillfully
Snuck inside a facility
For better visibility
And to find something specific
Having to do with being monolithic
I can see them conducting experiments dubbed 'scientific'
But where is it?
Going door to door through corridors
From floor to floor
While exploring more
Later on got
To a room that was locked
And could not afford being caught
Eventually
Found a key
Helping me
Get through the locked room
And soon in a place new
Where it finally was in view
Was it all too good to be true?
The air was cold
Didn't listen to what I was told
Because I felt like I was on a roll
Quickly grabbed hold
But it peered back into my soul
And took control
Like one obsessed with gold
Next thing I knew, I woke up and was old
Had been in a coma for thirty eight years
And now here I appear
Talking to you loud and clear
By: Dalton Ogletree
Facilitating The Facility
Solid structures should stay outside where they belong
With a firm facility of understanding occupational standards
In their simplicity of design
Edifices don’t build themselves in wildernesses
No one does
It’s not civilized
Loud noises must be nurtured in the city
To appreciate the sacrifice
The road to success is always under construction
Edifices have to rise above it all
Iron buildings need to breathe in rust
By starting from the outside in
And stand alone in the metropolis
Or else they don’t
Utilized to work in their basic functionality
Buildings take on the life of corporations, homes and offices
Certain to house nobility in the structure of their intent
To stand forever with or without rent
They need not speak
Unless they’re spoken to
Being affiliated with architects and engineers
Gives them a certain air of prominence and prestige
Sky scrapers rise with lofty names
Towering in affluence fills their halls with purpose
Facilitating the facility is under way
They rise with loud noises and voices to the sky