You grab the sun, I chase the moon. Still, we try not to be so self-conscious.
In-between steam collects, emptying you, emptying me.
I want to know whats behind the sky, you need what it contains.
The sun is evidence theres fire on both sides while that emptiness beyond the moon only gives the impression of infinity.
If you are correct, the price can never hold. Truth is more than our signatures. No, it is the space before the bill is due.
This is where we sign. The lines are black and waiting.
- by Gregory Bolton and Dwaine Rieves
Home
On the train, I see The city skyline Black-knife silhouettes, Like alternating current, Elevated and depressed. The muddle of objects I had somehow thought Closer to something like Platian universals.
But, homes a pin-prick, The drop of blood Blotted on crumpled paper towel. Its work, lover, and friends, The dead, the house, and the cat.
- by John Bittinger Klomp
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8/8/97 Issue. Copyright 1997 by CAMP Rehoboth, Inc. All rights reserved.