~The Persistence of the Unattainable~
By Eric Van Ramshorst

Flat and tacked to a wall you stay. Looking on others with a smile that shines while time decays. Piercing eyes that flash as red, disguising yourself to the on lookers. Coated skin with a glossy edge. Reflecting back the ceilings light. I reach a finger to touch what stays the same. Trapped in a 4 by 6 prison forever entombed in a moment of time that ceases to continue. I want to be pulled in with you but remain, just looking at you. As the hands on the clock continue to move. Your smile stays true. I pull the tack that pins you to the wall. You flutter to the ground, reminiscent of leaves in fall. Twirling in circles your smile rotates and closes the gap between yourself and the ground. You fall to the ground without even a thud. I wait to see your face change and show a sign of pain. Yet you still remain the same. On the ground smiling up at me. Trapped but still seeming content with your own condition. I grab a quarter out to peel off your glossy coat in hopes to remove what pins you down. I press it hard to your edge and drag it across your timeless smile. It peels the image to a white with splatters of color in fragmented dots. I go till I see no more of the smile or the vibrant red eyes. The image of you is no longer there. You're gone, no longer defying time. Free from your prison. Free to a world affected by time. Free from my piercing glance.

Free from all the piercing glances that wanted to be where you were.





Rain Falls Down

By Nathan Northup 

how we find our own
pain in the words of another’s
And they say music is the only international language

Rain falls down on last year’s dream
Cold Maker holds my hand
I hold my cigarette

They say animal inherit memories-
fish and birds and beasts                                                                      Photo by Joshua Hein
Some ancestral voice of generations past
Do they think
about where to go?  Or just
hear…and know?

Cold Maker holds my hand
I hold my cigarette

I’m listening
But all I hear are drops of rain
sliding off the roof of this half-assed
apartment complex
onto some old man’s
neglected gas grill
A half-assed ting
On some half-assed hi-hat

Rain falls down on last year’s dream
Cold Maker holds my hand
I hold my cigarette

I’ve always tried to hear
those drums
Maybe this blood is just
too thin
Too White to hear
Too Red to surrender
I’ve always wanted to hear those drums

Cold Maker holds my hand
I hold my cigarette
Rain falls down on last year’s dream

Fuck that gas grill


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