poem

Chapter 39

Poetry

By Jenae Janzen

39 and since the beginning there have been memos
                     pictures,
                                  the occasional solar autograph-signing
  cosmic drafts,
              universe-sized, half-sketched, half-created.
    then crumpled and discarded
                              in a blueprint wasteland larger than heaven
                  the angels  thrown out,
                               humans next
2 and since the first day, copy-editors and
                          assignments.
                                    trans-material architects:
                                    scheming deities
                                   and the critics of their works.
3 whose Great Voice is that?
              the sky is creasing, crinkling,
                          the bare first sign of a different timeline.

Damn Decency

Poetry

By Jordan Esely-Kohlman

Damn Decency! I want to live as an animal, marauding the savanna.
To shade beneath the acacia and find excited peace only when and where the
shadows hide.
To feed from the tawny grasslands and rest in the hollows of concentric sienna and
obsidian.
To procure the lay of the land through deliberate exploration.
To find solace in the peach hillsides that languidly lean into vermillion valleys.
To discover that there is no edge of the world, only beautiful quirks and catenaries
where the beginning is the end.
To drink from time, the cool blue stream it is, and truly taste the flux of kinetic
molecules.
To prey on moments and capture them with a swift strike of the paw of perception.
To roam.
To be.

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