INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Alan Britt
Lisa Schmidt
|
JERSEY SHORE, 1978 While cast out into the waves the wish escapes from the stone shell. To be grey pearl perfect mirror ball, smooth delicate skin, ball bearing unbreakable on which worlds, clocks, wheels could revolve. Not like gravel, stepped on and kicked away like a foul beggar at an Easter Day Parade. At the edge of the jetty oysters are pulled from the sea. Soul and shell severed as they are thrown by the hands of a four year old girl, out into the sea again. She does not know what pearl means. EVERY NIGHT THE DREAM COMES CLEARER At the abdomen of the mountain in a clear cellophane blue lake delicate carved statues stand fixed in mid-ascent. Phoenix. Unicorn. Pegasus. Their weathered eyes begging the sky for drought, or rain. Either will deliver the necessary change. To drown would be the end. In drought would be dry ground. Isabel Kestner, Hazlet, New Jersey
|