Featured Poets

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Featured Poets

Dustin Brookshire

Athens, Georgia

Anywhere Else

Let the desert's sun

Scorch my skin

Till it burns beyond

All medical help

That would be fine

As long as I'm not

Here

Let the mighty ship

Fill completely with water

Till it can't hold anymore

While possible staying afloat

That would be fine

As long as I'm not

Here

Let Mother Nature create

Her fiercest snowstorm

Till everyone complains of cold

And frostbite starts to settle in

That would be fine

As long as I'm not

Here

Let me face the one

Who loves me not

Till my eyes flow with tears

And my hear breaks beyond repair

That would be fine

As long as I'm not

Here

Stephanie Scarborough

Stephenville, Texas

I am a junior at Tarleton University, a pisces, a vegetarian, and wish I could play the accordion. I've recently had poetry appear in Nuthouse, Bathtub Gin, Toasted Cheese, The Unrorean, Lunatic Moon, Studio One, Raw Nervz, Love Words, Bovine Free Wyoming!, First Class, Liquid Ohio and others, and fiction appear in Rant-O-Rama and Planet Relish. I also draw cartoons and edit The Pleasant Unicorn, an e-zine that can be found at my website http://www.tarleton.edu/students/sscarborough

A Lovely Evening

Parody of "At Queensferry" by Ernest Henley

A fat man sang, inside your ears were clean,

We bowled for hours, then we wined and dined

Superbly at the sushi place behind

The toxic waste dump-- my fried rice was green.

But then we had to leave-- some feud between

The owner and some critic guy who whined

About an eyeball in his soup. I find

Of beans and sushi, I prefer the bean--

Sushi and kombu aren't my cup of Tang.

The chickens clucked and lobotomists' picks

Ripped frontal lobes from unsuspecting brains:

We poisoned squirrels, all while the fat man sang

About some city way out in the sticks

Where eyeball soup clogs up the sewage drains.

Daniel Arnold

East Lansing, Michigan

Daniel, a junior at the MSU College of Education, is a writer for Natural Spirit Ministries. He also has done extensive research on the history of toys and is a member of International Toy Research Association. He can be reached at [email protected]

Untitled

Oh little writer you,

Don't try to impress me.

Let it f l o w.

Words disperse out like rain drops

On the hot desert sand

dunes.

mysterious.

Little is known about where they go

Or how they got there,

But the parched earth

Hungrily soaks up the moisture just the same.

Our Guest Poet This Month Is

Leda Anne Underwood

Sherman, Texas

I have been schooled quite a bit about life and people in general throughout my nursing career. Thangs magazine published three of my poems (under my pen name) in last months issue.

Unheard Teardrops

After glistening teardrops fall,

never again to be shed.

Their sounds though never heard,

will echo forever instead.

Spring's Pardon

Now silent, imprisoned sunflower seeds

Sleeping in winter's snowy garden.

Are boldly dreaming of sunny mornings;

the coming of spring's pardon.