You curl your legs beneath you and rest
the well-worn notebook in the crook of your knee
Your favorite pen or one just like it
Press it to the paper and make lines, curves, circles
Rhyme every other line, or every two lines
Or do not rhyme at all, simply write
Until the inspiration comes and the words revive
Lift off the waxy page, paint
Rhymes, rhythm, stanzas, couplets
Iambic pentameter, a villanelle
You put down your pen, hold it up to your face
Examine, twice, three times
Rip it up, try again

I am a tabby cat
Perfectly content to sleep all day
Following the sun around the house
Moving from lap to lap
Allowing you to pet me, at least for now
But sometimes I don’t want to be touched
And that’s when you let me outside
I might catch a mouse
Or maybe not

It is windy
So windy I think those men will be blown away
But they still work
The trees across campus are only half-visible
It is snowing too
The scaffolding creaks and moans
They still work
The bow their heads against the wind, and work
The yellow, white, grey helmets protecting their heads
There are three stories now, instead of two
Grey brick upon grey brick

Down below the mud has hardened so the cranes don’t sink
They bustle back and forth
There are students walking on the concrete pathways
They bustle back and forth
There’s a library, tall and fat, full of books
There’s a student center, like a castle, full of students
And there’s a church, cone-shaped, full of Jesus

He perches high above
Shimmering coattails draping
Oversees his kingdom
And ascends the humid breeze
Above the trees
Deep crimson, white, imperial jade
His coat of arms

He arranges his plumes and waits
A queen for the king
He performs for her, dazzles her with his ornament
A display of golden-greens, violet-blues
And the kingly crest, his crown
And they will fly together
Two blue eggs, heirs
Two black eyes, surveying the empire

“Xerostomia interferes with speech and swallowing,
 causes fetid breath, and, because the reduced salivary flow
no longer washes away bacteria, impairs oral hygiene.”

“I need a drink,” said she dryly,
Holding a margarita glass to constantly sip from.
She claims “Life is short, drink heavily
From the cuppa life, ‘fore yer mouth chap
And bleed.” But her mouth smells of tequila,
And years of bad English slang.
In a class all her own, she has no class at all,
Swallowing words, to be trapped in a web of saliva.
Still she adjusts her halter,
Checks her fetid breath
Rank with the decay of dead language
The remains of grammar,
And, hopped up on Benadryl and cold meds,
Flirts with the death of eloquence.

A fruit preserve, boiled,
Into a pulp with sugar.
Remade into something sweeter,
Than it was before.
From tree to toast,
From bush to English muffin,
From branch to jar.
Raspberry, strawberry,
Native Maine blueberry,
Plucked in the prime of life,
And smashed, boiled, beaten,
Into a gooey treat to grace white toast,
And the white walls of family rooms.

Daydreaming is a widely practiced activity among students. It can take on many forms, and varies in duration and intensity according to the ability of the dreamer. Surprisingly few people, however, understand that daydreaming is in fact an art form requiring skill and practice. As a first step, the dreamer must be situated in a position which will provide the greatest opportunity for boredom. This can be a classroom, the library, or the bedroom (particularly when there is homework to be done). The droning tone of a lecturing professor is also preferable, though not necessary. The position of the body is incredibly crucial at this stage, because the duration and intensity of the daydream depends on the comfort of the dreamer. The most common position consists in placing one arm on a flat surface, in the case of a classroom setting this would be the desk in front of the dreamer. One arm should be vertical with the hand forming a cradle for the chin in order to suitably support the head. Once situated, the dreamer should locate the nearest window or an interesting object and look past it, but cannot cross the eyes – this will encourage the far-off look which is so common among full-time daydreamers. The concentration required for this stage is, more often than not, enough to empty the mind of all other distractions and to make way for the innocent meanderings of aimless thought referred to as “daydreams”. In many cases, however, the mere act of what many term “spacing out” is insufficient for initiating a daydream. When this occurs, it is often helpful to focus one’s mind on an event, thought, or feeling, and write a mental story on it. Once the desired daydream state has been reached, the dreamer need only remain still and silent in order to maintain his or her trance-like condition. Beginners will experience failure, naturally. Mastery of the art of daydreaming requires persistent practice so one must not be discouraged when first attempts fail. Keep dreaming, dreamers.

It is unseemly to think of the ire roused
By my fleshy shell, the product of clay,
“The flying fabric stitched on bone,”
All haphazardly glued together,
Upon a sickly skeleton. Concealed beneath
”The garment neither fur nor hair”
But my naked hide, pale, placid, Aryan.
A guise both despised and favored: Looked after and overlooked.
And I often favored this face, this frame,
In opposition to the alternatives.
But I am a hypocrite, a Sophist stooge:
”I hate my epidermal dress.”
I hate my white face, white hands,
My white blood, threaded with sins,
And the curse of the White checkbox on scholarship forms.
If I’m not allowed to be but what I am,
Freely would I trade for the exotic, exciting,
Or else remain a ghost, unseen and lost,
Amid the favored minorities.

But I can’t feel my toes
And I imagine them turning blue one by one
“Si hoc adfixum in obice legere potes,
Et liberaliter educatus et nimis propinquus ades!”
Says a bumper
And another “My Kid Beat Up Your Honor Student”
Two or three cabs squeeze their way through the tiniest gaps on the Tobin Bridge
“What I like about cities is that everything is king size, the beauty and the ugliness.”
Even the McDonald’s here are larger than life
I still can’t feel my toes in the New England cold, however