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 Jan 2016 Aspen S
sanch kay
truths.
 Jan 2016 Aspen S
sanch kay
my scars are
sneaky storytellers.
your eyes can
speak secrets.
our stories are but
fireflies that live
and die
*in the dark.
 Jan 2016 Aspen S
sanch kay
we’re the cool girls of this generation,
the ones with the words ‘i .cannot. give. a. ****’
slashed across us in bold red,
the little lies we tell ourselves to go to bed,
instead of spending midnight hours strung on the edge
unable to seek behind or storm ahead.

the ones who fell asleep
to the sound of constant yelling, artillery shelling; bitter bullets exploding
into ugly bruises splattered across still skinny limbs,
shifting stories of anger and frustration, guilt and regret
expressed across inches of innocent skin;
the ones whose clothes were just a little bit frayed on the edges
the wear and tear of secret battles
fought behind sunset alleys,
behind midnight tea stalls
or on bright Sunday afternoons
at the bus stand,
desperately fighting hungry eyes and hungrier hands.

we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.


we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that house boys in our hearts and
smoke in our lungs,
the ones who spend way too much time inside their own head,
asking a hundred questions before every step in this game of wizarding chess that
never seems to slow down -

we’re the ones that can be found
wandering insomniac across sulphur-sodden streets,
wisps of distant wishes
settling into the foggy vestiges
of a high mind longing to soar higher.

we’re the cool girls of this generation
the one that are still allowed just the right rationing of
action emotion expression complication communication
while wearing a constant resting not-so-***** face
head sorting information in a frenzied daze,
heart swinging between your fingers and a suitcase -

the ones with one foot in the present and
other parts traversing through parallel dimensions,
searching for a back up plan if your hearts refuse to allow us home;
the ones whose mouths became graveyards
for all the words that went unsaid,
for all the words to which we came undone,
for all times your eyes asked us questions that we shunned

we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that belong to roads unknown and bodies untouched,
the ones that find stories in shipwrecked planks
that ride stormy oceans only to find homes
or perhaps even build them -
amidst the crumbling sand castles on the sea shore.

because we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
*red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.
 Jan 2016 Aspen S
Bailey Lewis
My body is a lighthouse
Desperately, searching
For her in the darkness
Hoping that the yellow
Light leads her back to me
 Jan 2016 Aspen S
Norman dePlume
The possibility of free declamation anchored
And lucid, inescapable rhythms
Do have meaning. They're strong as rocks
In the deep-toned Aeolian mode
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
A Poet could not but be gay,
The Impotence to Tell –
Still makes a poem a surprise!
The possibility of free declamation anchored (John Ashbery, "Street Musicians," Selected Poetry, page 207)
And lucid, inescapable rhythms, (Wallace Stevens, "13 ways of looking at a blackbird")
do have meaning. They're strong as rocks. (Frank O’Hara, "Today")
In the deep-toned Aeolian mode (Lasus of Hermione )
For the listener, who listens in the snow, (Wallace Stevens, "The Snow Man")
A Poet could not but be gay, (Wordsworth, "The Daffodils")
The Impotence to Tell – (Emily Dickinson, poem 407.)
still makes a poem a surprise! (Frank O’Hara, "Today")
 Jan 2016 Aspen S
Megan H
See that bed?
That's where he had his heart attack
When my dad was alive.

See that hospital?
That's where he was
When my dad was alive.

See those chairs?
We sat there waiting
When my dad was alive.

See those double doors?
I walked through those
When my dad was alive.

See that fountain?
I used to see it everyday
When my dad was alive.

See that cafeteria booth?
That's where me and my family ate
When my dad was alive.

See that nurse?
I think she might recognize me from
When my dad was alive.

See that couch?
That's where I sat
When I learned
That my dad had died.
See this smile?
It's been gone ever since.




Today I visited the hospital that my dad passed away in. I didn't realize that the feelings would come back so strong. It's been nearly 5 years, but it feels like yesterday.
 Dec 2015 Aspen S
Lainrz
ihym
 Dec 2015 Aspen S
Lainrz
I'm an alcoholic
drug addict
and this ****
doesn't have a thing on
you.

e.s.
 Dec 2015 Aspen S
Scott Horror
i am becoming strange
who is stranger
me or the girl i dont know
sitting next to me
on the bus

my hands shake
as i try to remember
your telephone number
at the corner payphone

i keep on glitching
itching and twitching
and i miss-dial your number
and my quarter is wasted

i slept with a stranger
girl than i remember
but not how you think
it was that she fell down
in the middle of the party
and the glitching and twitching
reminded me of you
so i carried her
and put her
in my spare bedroom
and that was it

when she left
i went back to the payphone
to tell you about it
my my hands were still shaking
and i miss-dialed your number
but it went to your mother
who explained to me again
why you can't pick up

she said you slept
in a nice box downtown
after you got too drunk
and your bike hit a truck

i said that i remember
how you glitched and twitched
how you were hospitalized
for a week or two
and then when you got out
you forgot to call me

she told me that you cant call
anymore
because you sleep
in a nice box downtown
with your grandma and uncle

after she hung up
i went to talk to you
in this nice box downtown
but before i got there
i got too drunk
and my bike hit a truck
and now i can see you
in your nice box downtown

but you still
dont return
my calls
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