Monthly Archives: March 2010

Poem of the Week

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Catspaw

Lauren Johnson

Air.

The unborn swallows it,

gasps and pants so hard

its little lungs burn.

It rocks the egg back and forth,

wedges its beak in the crack, and punches

again, again.

It stops, gulps the burning wind,

rests, then strikes.

Air.

Its shield shatters, and the universe

falls over, leaks into a new world

littered with gold and feathers and fish bones.

Poem of the Week!

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If It Looks Like A Baked Potato and Sounds Like A Baked Potato, Then It’s Probably A Baked Potato (Or a Knight Singing “We Will Rock You”)

J.S. Landon (the sobriquet of Cory Nyholm)


On a mundane midnight, 20th of February

I swallow smoke, feel sick to my stomach.

I spend two hours on my deathbed, belching like a salamander,

trying to imitate it’s mythical brother.

My brother brings home a roasted knight,

cooked Rotisserie-style in his armor.

I present my prize: a baked potato, wrapped in a suit of shining tinfoil.

Wouldn’t you think they’re the same thing?

The only difference between Heath Ledger and a potato

is a posthumous Academy Award!

Mr. Potato Head couldn’t be a schizophrenic clown, either;

no vegetable can reprise that role…except for a yam.

And the only insects that are gay cowboys

live on potato plants: the lowly cicada.

If only Hollywood didn’t douse promising careers with DDT.