Red Sea by Kaylie McTiernan

Red Sea
by Kaylie McTiernan

Infinite water surrounds me,

The Azorean sunset's passion manifests itself,

The secret ocean hides the wind's whistling might,

Almost forgotten is the wildly jumping jerboa,

The arctic blue narwhal's unicorn-like majesty is concealed,

Dreams of the tranquil stream are distant,

An overwhelming desire surges,

The Red Sea flooded irises gaze back into mine,

Endless water envelops me,

Fiery winds break the ocean with whistling might,

The Venus Flytrap does not snap shut,

No graceful Siberian tiger perches, awaiting its prey,

A blood-red sunrise pierces,

No dream of the tranquil stream,

The Red Sea flooded irises devour mine.

Traffic by Alex Rasmussen

Traffic
by Alex Rasmussen

The cars all grind to a stop:

one can feel the pressure mount

in ripples through the pavement.

There is, of course, the usual mix of models:

the lumbering herds of Ford Explorers,

the fleet and solitary Dodge Stratuses.

And, of course, most idle

greasy unclean and festering

under the midday sun.

Coffee stains polka-dot every seat.

There is no hurry, no

scurrying through traffic lights,

no joyriding carful of teenagers.

There is no haze of exhaust fumes

through this dissipated air.

But in the breakdown lane

the stolen car with the burnt-out

headlights stalls, its abductor

in a panic with

manic groping sweaty fingers

twisting the impotent key

like the wrist of some

staunch deviant offender

in the ignition

sweating out the crawling, pricking barbs:

the brute caress of freedom.