The ball rollsAnd bounces, tooCarried by the windAs it descends to the groundIt sits idle as gravity has placed itDiversion is the way of the ballIt dares to deflect worry and distress by Alexandra Foerster, ’09

you need something poeticfor your songlike seafoam green wallsbare and picture-lessa sun-soaked skyabove a crashing waterfallor a hat blown off in the winda crazy mind that can interpret numbersa child deep within the coves of slumberyou need a rhyme to make a dimesome guitar stringsand a little timesomething to sing aboutand a steady beatlike footsteps…

December 1994Anthony is sunken into the queen-sized mattress pulling his knees up to his chin. He clutches at his ankles withblistered hands. Hands that had built some of the structures that surround the city, but he would never notice.His palms are thick and brawny. Big blue veins emphasizethe muscles that gloat over his metacarpals. His…