Meghann Van Pelt 17 Thomas Hickey
Girl with the Red Balloon The words come in and out As the frequency moves Through the white noise: “When you miss me, I’ve gone.” A presence lingers in the air Like the faint scent of perfume; Some new concoction called: “When you miss me, I’ve gone.” And the carpet, shifted slightly - The left corner curled up - Remains a witness to the statement: “When you miss me, I’ve gone.” Gone on like Banksy’s little girl releasing The red balloon to the blue wind; The sentence carried on the current: “When you miss me, I’ve gone.” By Samantha Khoury What Am I? By Luke Christioclyph LaChac A pin dropped, and all the world listened, I stopped, my heart a-fire, I ran, My heart a-tire, An arrow flew, and her eyes, they glistened. An ego-centric bird laid an ego-centric egg, I took my only mask off, shattered it to pieces, I put it back on to find, it tattered into jesus, The mother bird died, result, an impressible plague. An internal schizophrenic, an internal war, made geographic, Then the last arrow knew, he would never be last, Even though her eyes glistened, he would become her past, All my personalities fight, all masks have their day, yes, catastrophic. Although my eyes sing loud, they hold an empty soul, Truly what am I? The remnants of the world, brushed from the table, into an empty skull. 18