Impressions 1999 by Dickinson State University

Advisor: Dr. Dave Solheim

Editors: K.C. Hanson Eric John Lorentz Lindblad Erik Gjovik

Impressions 99 Winners: Poetry

Prose: fiction

151 place "Rain" by Heather Kransky

151 place 'The Airplane Man" by Chris Lindblad

Honorable mentions "Coal" by Ted Munkacsi, & 'Tree" by Robyn Morgan

Honorable mentions ''Rome and Julie" by Heather Kransky, & "Summer Breeze" by Tiff Warner

Prose: non-fiction

2-D black &white

151 place "Coming In Out of The Cold" by Courtney LaFave

151 place ''Untitled" (Girl with Mirror) by Rachelle Kadrmas

Honorable mentions "Protector" by Marty Steidl, & "Cowboys" by Amy Long

Honorable mentions "Lost in the 50's" by David Craigo, & "Untitled" (Church) by Penny R. Hayden

Cover Photo by Racbelle Kadrmas

Copyright 1999 by the editors of Impressions. All future rights to material published in this literary magazine belong to the individual authors, and any reproduction or reprinting of this material may be done only with their permission.

Prologue Thanks for picking up a copy oflmpressions, Dickinson State University's Literary magazine. Hopefully we have succeeded in putting together a wild collage of work that comes as close as humanly possible to representing the artistic currents of the university. It is an exciting time to be at DSU. In the past years, an excellent foundation has been laid on which our creative scene will continue to thrive. This scene is indeed vital to the university, and shou ld be regarded as nothing less. Impressions 1999 is deeply indebted to all ofthe individuals who submitted their creations for publication. Blank pages tend not to make much of a statement. I'd like to thank our faculty advisor Dr. Solheim for guiding us through this ordeal. Thanks to co-editor Erik Gjovik, and Ted Munkacsi for their computer expertise. Also to my brother Chris, who brought the pina that kept us all from starving to death during our fourteen hour layout marathon. Last, but not least I want to thank K.C. Hanson for being K.C. Hanson. He has been a great asset to the English department and the entire university. I'll never forget our late night discussions about life in general and poetry in particular. It was K.C. who showed me that there is much to be learned at a university outside of a classroom-an invaluable lesson for a poet. We will all miss you K.C. In the end, we did manage to put together this magazine, which I hope is a reasonable depiction of our place and time. That's enough of me ... there is a whole magazine to experience!

--Eric John Lorellf:: Lindblad

Table of Contents My Life Hath Stood D. Wilham Pasicznyk Untitled (Butcher's) Amy Long Klcking Rocks Ted Munkacsi Sweet Knowledge Samantha Roth The Kitchen Table Barbara Laman Untitled (Church) Penny R. Hayden Cowboys Amy Long Coal Ted Munkacsi Smooth as Silk Courtney LaFave Earth, Wind, Fire, Water Jolene Viara Rain Heather Kransky Poem K.C. Hanson NoBodies David Craigo The Airplane Man Chris Lindblad King of the Hill Erik Gjovik The Flagpole Erik Gjovik High Hopes Michael Powers No. 1 Dead Cold Troy Sterling Nies In a Smoky Room on a Winter Night Eric John Lorentz Lindblad Bar Types K.C. Hanson Coming In Out of the Cold Courtney LaFave Untitled (Cowgirl) Amy Long Untitled (Girl with Mirror) Rachelle Kadrmas Faucet & Radto Dreams Thomas Michael McDade "It's Me Gramma" Nancy Kostelecky

2 3 3 4 6 7 8 8 9 10 10 11 12 16 17 17 18 19

19 20 21 22 23 23

Superfly Davtd Cratgo Untitled Amy Long (Pepper) Lost in the 50's Davtd Craigo Someday Robert Entzel "Rome and Julie" Heather Kransky Windmill Erik Gjovik Gold Erik Gjovik Progress in North Dakota David Craigo Summer Breeze Tiff Warner True Love Heather Kransky Ambitions of Newly Winged Insects Eric John Lorentz Lindblad Untitled (Rose) Anna Butgereit Untitled (Shoe) Rachelle Kadrmas Protector Marty Steidl Why Poets aren't Rich K.C. Hanson Untitled (Fence) Robert Merry The Airplane Man (cont. from pg. 14) Chris Lindblad My Lover Mindy Lynam Solitude Ginny McGriff Untitled (Child) Kelly Koppinger The Place Davtd Cratgo Into her ears Enc John Lorentz Lindblad The Htgh-Schooler K.C. Hanson Untitled (Ratls) Holly Vander Vorst

24 24 25 25 26 31 31 32 33 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 43 44

45 46 47 47 48

My Life Hath Stood (A Variation of My Life Had Stood-A Loaded Gun By Emily Dickinson) My life hath stood a Loaded Gun In the Comer until a Day A Madman Passed and recognized And carried Me away And now We roam these Darkened Woods And noe We hunt a Foe And every time I speak for Him The mountains fall Below And do I smile, a radiant light Upon the open Land glow It is as a Vesuvian face Had let its pleasure go (grow) And when at Night our day is Done I guard my Master's Head I'm better than the Deep Down Pillow used to rest the Dead To Foe of His, I prove more Deadly For none stir the second time On whom [ lay a Bloody Eye Or a Common Crime More I than He may longer live He longer must than I For I have Given the Power to Kill Without the Power to Die

--D. William Pasicznyk

Untitled --Amy Long

Kickint: Rocks The stone Flat, round, and smooth Somewhat imperfect Waiting for the next ice age. The stone Nicked, scratched, gouged, Somehow runic Ages spent watching and thinking. The stone Kicked, picked, and skipped, Sometimes free History begins again where it Lands --Ted Munkacsi

Sweet Knowled.:e A nova of sunset colors Dances provocatively across the dark screen of sleep. Knowledge nestled in my mother's bosom Holds true to the fact of lovely star speckled night. Understanding of another kind. A writer's word, an artist's stroke A sculptor's clay. Ready to see, ready to hear Circle around me Feeding ready to soar and touch the sun. --Samantha Roth

THE KITCHEN TABLE By Barbara Laman "Yes'', he said, "Yes. I will. I've been wanting to." I had asked my favorite guy for dinner to my house. He'd been busy-unwillingreluctant-hesitant-shy- ! couldn't quite tell which and this evening I half expected him to say no again, but now he'd surprised me. What on earth was I to cook? A stop at the grocery store on the way home solved my problem. He was an eat anything kind of guy, I knew that at least. Hauling the spoils up the stairs into the kitchen, I came to with a start. I meant to set the paper bags with the bags of Spring Mix and the Italian dressing, the long thing stick of French bread, the pasta, the extra lean ground beef, the mushrooms, the onions, the garlic, the Five brothers spaghetti sauce, and the bottle of Cabemet Sauvignon on the table, but there was no room. It was a big table- big enough to seat six- made from raw oak, black with

printer's ink from the Dickinson press, and covered with coffee and tea stains. There would be no time to give it a proper scrubbing with soap and water. The scissors lay where I'd left them that morning after cutting out For Better Or Worse cartoons about Eland her introduction to hot flashes. They were for my friend, Lillian, whom I expected any day now about the sudden temperature changes. Kathleen Parker had also had a good column that morning, although I didn't always like Parker's views. To be perfectly honest, I preferred Joe Spear's. And then there was the chancellor of higher Ed who' d been calling for fairer faculty salaries. That story needed to go into my file. No wonder my table was black what with all those clippings I had to save. The crossword puzzle with one clue unansweredwhat on earth were "assam worms"? was still on my clipboard, which lay on top of my five pound, 2478-page Random House Dictionary, which lay beside the heap of folders with my

students' argument essays that were waiting to be annotated, evaluated, graded, and returned. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Guns, school prayer, and death penalty, yes; immigration and abortion, no. Academe, the Smithsonian, The James Joyce Literary Supplement, Modern Maturity and the AAA magazine lay neatly piled in the far comer, waiting to be read. A small stack of seminar papers about the romantic poets were hidden under the telephone, which in tum were hidden under the telephone and the utility bills, which in turn, were hidden under the latest Lands End Overstock catalogue. Ed McMahon insisted that I had won Ten Million in the latest Publishers clearing house sweepstakes if my number had been chosen, and my mother, in her latest letter to me advised that I save more money for my retirement. The AARP agreed. Between the pages of Modern Maturity they sent me an invitation to buy more, better, and cheaper, retirement insurance. I

story about Cber turning 50 and wondered how anyone could look like that at fifty. Perhaps I should order a leopard patterned "Angel Bra" and matching thongs from the Victoria 's Secret Catalogue. Or not. I decided that neither Victoria nor Ed MacMahon could help me. Nevertheless, my favorite guy was coming over for dinner. Here I stood with my arms full of groceries with no place to put them. Shifting through the bunch of magazines with my elbows, I sent the lot of them flying to the floor. The dentist's reminder that I make an appointment for a cleaning leagt from between the pages of one of them. After I set the bags at the edge of the table, I picked up the dentist's message and put it with my phone bill. I quickly cut the onions, sauteed them, put the meat on top, browned it, attacked the spaghetti sauce jar with the ... where on earth was tbe jar lid opener? Finally knocking the lid against the computer, I managed to open the glass bottle without breaking it and poured

its contents into the pot. While the concoction simmered, I cleaned and sliced the mushrooms and put them in the sauce. Some fresh oreganQ and thyme on top, close the lid, turn down the heat, put the water to boil, and change from a suit into Jeans. What to do with the table? I picked up the magazines and put them on top of the bills. The stacks of paper were six inches high; and the dictionary six, but it could stand on its side and be really tall; the magazines, bills, clipboard, newspapers, catalogues about eight. A tablecloth? Yes I thought, yes, I will. The green one. And the aqua plates with the rippled edges. And a candle. The door bell rang. "Hi! You're right on time!" "Hi Are you sure ... ?" "Of course! The pasta is just about ready. Have a seat. Or would you pour us some wine first, please? I've opened the bottle." "Yes. !will." He did. And sat. And looked at the six green conical napkins, some short and stout,

others tall and slender, and the green linen mound over which the four of them were planted. The two were at the foot of the mound. It was a forest on a hill rising behind two lakes, rippled slightly by a soft breeze. On both sides of their banks lay two, somewhat large silver canoes. The moon was barely rising beyond the hill. "I'm afraid to ask," he said, smiling. "Oh, we're just having a picnic on a battlefield," I said pointing to the hill. My antagonists, temporarily banished. Are you hungry?" "Yes," he said amd wrapped his fingers around one of the canoes. "Yes."

Untitled - Penny R. Hayden

Cowboys By Amy Long

Cowboys have been hailed as a great defining point in the history of the United States, and they have been portrayed as heroes in movies. In reality they are just necessary evils. The only reason they were put on this earth was to make the rest of us look good. Cowboys dress funny. They all wear healed, pointy boots that don't look very comfortable. Next come the worst part of their unsightly wardrobe. The Wranglers. Western stores must take each cowboys measurements when he is nine, and after that they won't let him get a larger pant size. These pants are worn so tight that a person has to wonder where all his precious parts fit. Unlike the boots and the pants, there are a few variations in cowboy shirts. However, most of them are button-up, overly colorful shirts with tacky Santa Fe designs. Often the dress shirts are accompanied by a silky scarf knotted around the cowboy's neck. To top

off their costumes are their hats. Some hats are much too large. Maybe cowboys feel that a massive felt brim intimidates cattle into submission. Or maybe they just think that they are fooling everybody because a big hat equals a big head which holds a big brain. These strange clothes must cause some hardship, but according to their music hardship is some they come across often. Cowboys compose the most annoying music. The singers seem to be trying to portray country life, but all they do is whine. And in the songs when they are not grumbling about redneck ways, they are singing about the loss of their perfect love. Sappy love songs can be bad enough, but add a country twang and then you' ll really have something to whine about. Probably the worst thing that country singers do is to constant!y remake each other's songs. These songs are bad enough to begin with, but remake them two or three times and they become torture

anthems to be played in hell. Cowboys are people, but they are irritating people. They benefit us in only one way: they make us look better

Endless open coffms filled with anthracite, Pulled to destinations far distant, Fuel for light, heat, and commercials. Hidden within the earth for millennia, Taken without consent from the wailing parent, No restitution made for the theft. One day the endless parade will stop, Floats no longer built from the earth's belly, A freezing, unlit world awaits future children. --Ted Munkacsi

Smooth as Silk An ink drop body balanced on dainty stilts of eight,

delicately danced across a floor composed of tiny light ropes of silk. I wathc as the spider spying its prey makes the space between the insect and itself disappear. Fly with panic and fluttering wings binds itself tighter and more desperate into the grasp of the web. From my view beneath the stage, the actors both are beautiful, for I am blind to the grotesqueness of the expert seamstress's fangs sucking blood. The arachnid now full with victim's life, then smoothly falls on a thread born of herself from her deadly darned home. I will gaze no longer for the curtian has closed and the rapid legs four and four draw near bare toes. --Courtney LaFave

Earth Beneath my feet lies the foundation of the world. Soft, dry, and hot from the beaming sun. Add water and it squishes between your toes. Sprouts of grass may shoot up, reaching for the sky. Trees grow for an eternity. Ground hogs, rabbits, fox, and worms burrow deep in to make their homes. It's blanketed with food to feed the world. Reach down and get a handful, sift through your fingers and feel the world come to life.

Wind Dark gloomy clouds rolling over the land. The cold air furiously blows the tumbleweeds. Dirt swirls in ravaging circles all around. The sky is in total darkness while the strong power of mother nature pushes forward. Walk back to the once humble abode and find that it has been scattered across the barren prairie.

Fire Grass is no longer green in the tint of the sun. The sky is a hint of orange on the horizon. The blaze is burning intensely upon the trees and the flesh of animals. They would soon take their last breath of life. There is no escape through the red hot, glowing embers of the night.

Water Cool, clear blue drops fall upon the ground, splashing into a cloud of dust. The thirst of the dry crust will finally be quenched. Animals and children frolic in the moistened, fragile grass, as the worms emerge from the underground. Colors of God's creations appear again for all to see.

-Jolene Vaira

Rain you

think

You

invisible

are can

you

see coming.

you not

clever, but

are enough.

as big

You you

you

chide

farther

fall I.

than I

think

are from you

Heaven,

are not

you,

and you.

Invite Hit I

harder

dare

you.

l will only open my mouth and swallow you whole.

--Heather Kransky

Poem West I am the center of my own known umverse.

East The trees blow leeward arching their boughs in glory to the passing wind. --K. C. Hanson

No Bodies -David Craigo

The Airplane Man By Chris Lindblad

The rain came crashing down towards the ground. People were running for shelter, anxious to escape the rainstom1. The puddles were growing rapidly as they thirstily drank the fallen raindrops. The gutters were becoming flooded and were being washed clean by the small river produced by the first rainstorm of spring. The mall parking lot was full of cars. It was late Friday afternoon, and there was hardly a parking space left. It had been raining for a good two or three hours. Underneath the marquee of the Movie Theater a couple of women were hiding from the unexpected afternoon shower. The women were busy carrying numerous packages while trymg to keep their little boys and girls from playing in the rain, wishing that their husbands would hurry up with the car before they dropped something or one of the children caught a cold. Jon jumped from his parked car and

sprinted towards the mall's entrance. His secunty guard uniform was already half soaked, but since be wasn't too fond of the rain and he was already late for work he ran as fast as he could across the wet pavement. His heart almost stopped when the front of a Buick almost took out his legs. The expression on the face of the middle-aged woman who was driving the car was just as startled as Jon's as the car screeched to a halt. Jon stopped wide-eyed in the middle of the car's path as the woman's mouth dropped open. The two were quiet for a few seconds as the rain came pouring down. The only noise was the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the ground and the off-key sound of young children singing at the other end of the parking lot. The silence was interrupted when the lady honked her hom and exhibited how well versed she was in the use of obscenities. Jon dismissed the lady's display with a wave of his hand and finished running to the mall's entrance doors.

"God damnit,'' the woman shrieked, "What the hell was wrong\\ ith that guy. That son-of-a-bitch is lucky he can still walk ... " The woman's daughter began to laugh; it wasn't very often that she got to see her mom this upset. ''What are you laughing at, Julie?'' asked the woman. "Nothing" replied Julie as a smirk appeared on her face. "I don't think it's very funny." Julie's mother lighted a cigarette, and blew the smoke out a crack in the window. "He should have been watching where the hell he was going." Julie's mother's hands were nervously shaking. Julie watched as her mother took another drag of the cigarette. Julie always thought it was funny how her mother always told her that she should never start smoking because "it was a disgusting habit," but yet her mom never made an attempt to quit. "Just settle down, mom," Julie said still amused by the spectacle of her mom cursing at the stranger.

"It's okay, you didn't hit the guy." Realizing that she had lost her composure, Julie's mother was speechless until she had pulled the Buick into one of the few remaining parking spots. "So where do you want to look first?" Julie's mother asked. "It doesn't matter," Julie said with a shrug of her shouJders. "Well, make up your mind," Julie's mom pleaded, "where do you want to go?" "Home," mumbled Julie. "Oh, come on," Julie's mother pleaded, "Why do you want to go home." "Because, I don't want to go to the stupid prom," Julie said looking out the window. "Sure you do. Everyone goes to the prom," her mother argued. Julie sat silent. "Besides, you already told Dylan that you would go. Why don't you want to go with him? He's a nice kid" Julie's mother insisted. "You know how embarrassing it's going to be I have to walk with him during Grand

March?" Julie asked. "First of all, he has to be the biggest dork in the whole school, I swear the kid has no social skills. He's always made fun ofby all the other Kids, and when they make fun of him, he only gets this stupid grin on his face. It's like he doesn't understand what they are saying to him." Julie paused for a moment. "You know how funny we are going to look, God, mother! He has to be three times my size. He's disgusting. He just a sweat machine, he sweats through like three shirts a day. He's got all these disgusting stains on shirts, and you can just imagine bow the kid smells ... " "Then why did you tell him that you wouJd go to prom?" Julie's mother asked, distinguishing the cigarette's flame in the overflowing ashtray. "I don't know," Julie said under her breath. The car was silent as Julie stared at her worn out shoes and her mother tried to think of something to say. Julie's mother applied another coat of red lipstick to her lips, and

checked her hair in the rear view mirror. "Well, let's go," JuJie's mother said looking at her reflection, "it's getting late, and we have to find you a dress still."

"Hey son, you're late," said Norman as Jon rushed into the office. Jon took a quick look at Norman. Norman's feet were propped up on the break room table and be looked like he was pretty comfortable. Jon figured he had been sitting there for the last hour of his shift. Norman needed a shave; it was obvious the guy hadn't shaved for a week or so. Norman's eyes were baggy, and his face looked older than his 43 years. He was drinking a cup of coffee that was still steaming while he was reading the comic section of the newspaper. His shirt wasn't tucked in and it was obvious that he was ready to go home. "Sorry," Jon apologized, "but I had to ... " "No need to explain, just don't let it happen again," answered Norman as he

put on his jacket and made his way to the door. Jon relaxed, because he didn't have to make up an excuse. "Oh by the way, can you clean up the break room? I didn't get a chance to, it was a pretty busy day." '"Yeah, sure," Jon answered. "Yeah, I'm sure that lazy bastard didn't get a chance to clean up the break room," Jon thought to himself. "I'm sure he had a lot to do this morning. What the bell, there's no one even in the mall during the morning shift, except old ladies, and I'm sure he didn't bust too many of them for shoplifting." "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, that is if you decide to show up," Norman said attempting to be witty. '"Yeah see you later," Jon called out as Norman walked out the door. "Wow, it's raining outside?" Jon could hear Norman calling out from down the hall. "Jesus Christ," Jon said almost laughingly as he punched in his time card 13 minutes late.

------------------------------

"Dude, do you have any more smokes?" a young teenager named Lucas asked his friend Matt as they were standing by the fountain in the middle of the mall. Matt grabbed an open pack of cigarettes from his green corduroy pants, "Yeah, I have a couple left," Matt said as he placed the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. "Let's go out for a smoke, I haven't smoked since before school," Lucas said brushing away the black hair that was hanging in his eyes. "No way man, it's raining outside," Matt said taking a seat on one of the edge of one of the planters where a fake tree was planted. Matt stared into space, while Lucas was pacing back in forth, pulling up his misfit pants so he wouldn't step on them when he walked. "What the hell is that guy doing?" Matt asked in attempt to break the silence. "What guy?" Lucas asked while rubbing his left shoulder.

"The guy in the black suit," Matt said pointing out a chubby bald man who was walking towards them from the entrance doors. The man had a lost look on his face and he was holding his arms out to his sides at shoulder height. "I have no idea," Lucas said with a laugh, "is he exercising or something?" "Beats me," Matt amused by the picture. "It's pretty funny, though."

-----------------------------As Jon walked out the door of the break room, he was surprised to see a fairly large man walking down the hallway. The man was dressed in a black suit as if he was a banker or a businessman. The man was in his mid-thirties to early-forties, and was already going bald. The man had a very neat appearance, but it was clear to Mike that there was something wrong with the fellow. The man had a blank expression on his face and his arms were extended out to his sides as if he were pretending to be an airplane. Jon began to follow the man as half a

smile broke across his face. Jon was looking aroundtoseeifanyone else had seen the welldressed lunatic. He saw two teenage boys staring with amusement at the man. However, the man kept walking and didn't return any of the stares he was receiving. "Looks like he's flying," Jon said with a chuck1e. "Yeah," Lucas smiled in agreement, "I wonder where he's headed?" Jon began to laugh as he continued to follow the flying man. "Jesus, I hope this guy doesn't do anything stupid," Jon was thinking to himself, "Maybe I should call the mental hospital and see if one of their patients are missing." Jon continued to follow the man, as more and more people saw the man flying through the halls of the mall. Most of the people turned around to point and laugh at the man who thought he was an airplane, while others tried to ignore him as best as they could. The man continued to walk with the same blank expression on his face, unaware of the attention he was attracting.

After a while, Jon decided that the eccentric didn't pose a threat, but decided that it was entertaining to watch the man and see the expression on peoples' faces when they caught a glimpse of the lost madman. At least Jon had a story to teiJ his friends when they would go out to the bar later on that night.

-----------------------------"I don't know, I think that blue dress was cute," Julie's mother said attempting to force her daughter to make a decision. "I didn't," Julie said as the two continued to walk down the hallway, "it's too fancy. I just want ... " "Oh, hi there," rang out a high-pitched voice behind Julie and her mother, "Gloria how are you, I haven't seen for so long!" Julie's mother turned around and noticed her high school friend Paula frantically waving and rushing over to talk to her while dragging her husband, Todd, along with her. Julie's mother and Paula had been friends ever since they were freshmen in high school. Julie always thought that her

mother's friendship with Paula was a little awkward because the two of them really had nothing in common. Julie's mom was a quiet woman and didn't lik~ to attract attention. On the other hand, Paula had always lived her life like it was a popularity contest; she always wanted to be the center of attention. She would just stop people, even if they were complete strangers, and would talk to them all day about nothing. Julie's mother once joked that Paula probably even talks in her sleep and that's the reason why Todd was always so grumpy. Julie always thought it was funny that whenever Paula and her mom talked that her mom could hardly get a word in. Julie didn't know anyone who could get a word in ifthey were having a conversation with Paula. It was hilarious how in all the years she had known Paula and Todd, Julie had only heard Todd say about 4 words. The only time Julie remembers Todd saying anything was when Paula had left the room

-continued on pg. 40

King of the Hill --Erik Gjovik

The Fla2pole Sturdy, tall and dignified, he sees all and knows all Lookin' back and Lookin' ahead So many roads to choose Some are less traveled There's no time to lose.

The bright woven tapestries which he lifts high to the heaves gleam in shimmer in the light of the sun.

Once done, the rest is easy Get up and follow it through Books, Papers and Portfolios I'm back in college, that's who.

He is always revered and saluted. his regal stature serves notice to all who pass his way.

But is it the right thing? They say it's never too late Forty years old, my crisis Red Sports Cars, I hate. So I wander around campus Searching and feeling out of place Makin' it work and trying Beginnings, Back in the race.

If inanimate objects could talk, I think he'd say, "Y.ou know, I really like thjs job."

Dreams keep me going Mine is a noble one A life-long desire to teach While having a little fun.

(mostly)

Answers are never easy Excuse me while I think What do they know? Bill collectors, kids and my shrink.

--Eric Gjovik

And now, almost every evening I'm cramming for tests Always better under pressure It's my story the defense rests. So when you see me With a smile on my face Know that sometimes its real, That I love this place.

--Micheal Powers

From 'Landscapes' No. 1 DEAD COLD SOME SEE IT AS A CRYSTALLINE BEAUTY TO ME IT IS A BLANKET OF WHITE DEATH. DESCRIBED BY JOYCE: IT WAS SOFTLY FALLING, FALLING SOFTLY, AND THEN FALLING FAINTLY THROUGH THE UNIVERSE AND FAINTLY FALLING, LIKE THE DESCENT OF THEIR LAST END, UPON ALL THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.

COLD-HONED KNIVES STILL CUT THROUGH LIFE. THEY PULL BACK, AND THEN - TWIST , BREAKING IN THE WOUND I FEEL THOSE BROKEN SHARDS FIND THEIR SEA, STRAINING TO SEE SOMETHING, SOMEONE. YET THE TEARS FREEZE THESE EYES SHUT -I'M DEAD COLD, THROUGH FROZEN SLITS, I SEE A WASTELAND- NEGATNE OF RETROSPECT AND I THINK OF THE DEAD I KNOW

Troy Sterling Nies

In a Smoky Room on a Winter Night My friend sits with his back to the Comer, blowing smoke Rings, and speaking about commitment To a stunning red head. Her thin lips fonn a half-amused smile Smile as she crosses her legs. Quicker then most she has realized That these rings fade into almost nothing As soon as they leave his mouth.

--Eric John Lorentz Lindblad

Bar Types Those that ask If you want a glass, And those that give it Snobbishly; Those that offer Matches free And those with long-stemmed candles To light your cigarette. --K. C. Hanson

Coming In Out of the Cold By Courtney LaFave When I looked out of the window that morning the image of the snow laden pine trees was distorted because if the ice that coated the glass. I could see the drifts that reached the roof of the garage from the main picture window. The shelter belt that Mom and Dad planted the first year that we were there, the year I was born, held in the snow that the wind whipped clean over the rest of the fields around us. My world was very small in the winter because the snow and the cold kept us at home. I can remember that morning that mom sat in the recliner upstairs and watched me as I got dressed to go out and feed the horses. She watches to make sure I wear enough. The horses became my chore this year, since I turned ten and my Dad thought I was old enough to help out. ..Besides," he says "you're the one that wanted the horses." Once I'm dressed I walk down to the foyer and stand next

to the door getting used to the cold. I can feel it come in from the seals that can not possibly keep all freezing air out. I open the door and the wind goes ripping up the stairs and grabs mom, who is now reading a book. She brings the crocheted blanket, made by relatives I have never met, up under her chin and shivers. I pull the door shut and hear the suction as the house shuts me out into the North Dakota winter. North Dakota are bitterly cold. They have no mercy even for ten year-olds. The wind bites at my wrists where my down jacket and my mittens don't close tightly together. Horses stand in the lean-to with heads hanging low and butts to the wind. They see me and greet me with a low nicker. As they walk toward the bam they totter on their hooves that are packed so the full with snow and ice that they aren't flat any more. The snow that lands on their thick coats of fur melts partially and then forms ice balls and there is snow flakes on each whisker giving the impression of a beard.

After seeing them I decide I should put then in for the day. I walk through the bam to the door opening out into the corral. I gather my strength to slide open the door. To slide it open takes either a lot of strength or a lot of chopping ice. It is usually a 15 minute ordeal for me. After unsuccessfUl tries to muscle it open, I grab a shovel and go out around the barn and through the corral. The horses stand next to me with noses at the opening as I slowly loosen the ice. They run in when the opening is wide enough and each goes to their own stall. They've learned which stall is theirs and they know, once they're in, they get fed and stay

warm. Feeding hay in the barn is east since dad throws hay bales down from the loft ahead of time. Then I head to the tack room to get grain. Grain is hard to get out of the feeder when its cold because the molasses in it gets hard. I get a strong bucket instead of the ice cream pail that I first see. Once that's done I get the 10 gallon pails from the shop and fill them

with water. It will be frozen by the time I come back out, but it will be long enough for them to get water. I head back outside anticipating the warmth of the house. The trip back from the bam is always worse because the wind is against you. It whips the snow onto my face, and it stings as I begin to lose my boot in the deep snow. I chose to wear my brother's boots even thought they're too big because e has the warmest boots in the family. Now not using my hands to do something, I feel ho cold they are and curl my fingers up into a ball underneath my mittens. Once I'm ouJ of the deep snow I run to the house using up the last of my energy. I bust into the house with snow on the eyelashes and cheeks. It melts instantly, but not from my boots that I slip out of easily. "Stay on the rug," Mom calls down. Off comes my coat, my mittens and my hat. All I feel is the hurting and stinging of my toes and fingers warming up. "Come and warm up," says Mom.

The cold has never seemed as cold as it was when I was a child and the warm house never as warm.

Untitled -Amy Long

Untitled --Rachelle Kadrmas

Faucet & Radio Dreams Indio sells popsicles when it's sunny, comic books when it's not. 2 bucks is a good day. He has 6 brothers and sisters and complains they must be the only family in Brazil without a radio. He'd like one especially For Duezimar who is crippled. But Indio forgets slum life when he catches an iron wave. Anyone can sling to the side of a train doing 50 but only a true sunfista like Indio is brave enough to duck and dodge electricity and stone standing on top. Rio's broad beaches a few miles away are too rich for even Indio's dreams. Better to fall asleep with thoughts of water running in the family shack. Dance music blasting from a console radio, a family radio. Now and then heavy metal to quiet Duezimar's tapping foot that an iron wave took easier than breaking a popsicle stick

"It's Me Gramma" "Who are you?" The aged air gathered to taste the place for it was going to take her space "It â&#x20AC;˘s me gramma." "Who are you?" The comb tugged At her shrieking hair As her arms reached for angeJ 's care. "It's me gramma." " Who are you?" The shadows grabbed her hurried eyes for them to shut to be disguised. "lt's me gramma."

--Thomas Michael McDade

"Who are you?" A frame engaged to stay wann her shriveled shell tried to form. "It's me gram.ma."

--Nancy Kostelecky

Superfly By David Craigo The creation of a new animal should be something worthwhile and fmancially rewarding. After all, if an individual goes to all the trouble to create a new organism, there should be monetary compensation. This is America, where you can buy and sell anything. With this criteria in mind I will create the Spanish Fly. I know, the name is already taken by a concoction of prepared beetles that are touted as an aphrodisiac. However I would create the real fly. The fly would be small and slow moving, much like the existing housefly. The similarities would end there. This fly would be the most authentic, purest form of sexual aphrodisiac known to the world. It would truly be the embodiment of what the term "Spanish Fly., has meant to generations of men. A sure-fire, lay-downin-front-of-me-mama, sock-it-to-me sex stimulant. What an amazing fly! The capture and subsequent marketing of

this little insect would even amaze the creators of the Physic Hotline. The real line I mean. How many different ways could it be mixed, crushed, liquefied or strained so that it would remain hidden when presented to the prospective woman. I would create it with very little crunch, and with just a hint of mint. It would be slow in reproduction, to give it scarcity. It should also be colorless, to make it more elusive and harder to detect. The majority of American males are obsessed with sex. According to surveys they fantasize about sex throughout the day. This fly could be the best product for interpersonnal behavior modification since Prozac.

It would be great for exercise too. Men all over the world be out with their little fly nets running through the parks at all hours of the day and night. Women would become more judicious of the food they eat, there-by reducing caloric intake and losing vast amounts of weight. The perfect weight loss product? A Spanish fly in her soup. A small amount of dehydrated Spanish fly and avoiding chocolate would no longer be a problem. The utilization of the lowly Spanish fly would be monumental. I think it should have just a slight touch of mockery also. When the fly's wings moved at high speed, they would have just the slightest moan to them.

Untitled --Amy Long

Lost in the SO's --David Craigo

Someday The car \Viii get fixed Someday The job will get finished Someday The lawn will get mowed Someday The problems of the world will be forgotten

Someda} Someday will come Someday --Robert Entze/

"Rome and Julie" By Heather Kransky

Scene 1--A bedroom consisting of a large oak bed, a brass vanity, and an armoire. Front stage is a standing lamp. Romeo is lying fully dressed on the bed watching television. Juliet (Off stage at the moment) dressed in only a full slip is busy trying to get ready for the reunion. Narrator: One household lacking in dignity Outside fair Verona where we lay our scene. From ancient romance drain to old-shoe comfort. Where civil days make civil nights unexciting. From forth the well-worn loins, these two lovers. A pair ofgrumpy codgers now transformed. Whose wz-adventured dishes and dirty clothes, Do through compromise. bury their previous passion. The tearless monotony of their lived-in love, And the avoidence of their parent's rage, Which but for times healing ofall wounds might soothe, Is now the ten minutes we engage. The which. ifyou with gracious ears attend. What here amidst balmy bickering, a love none-the-less to defend

Julie: Romeo. Romeo, where are you? Rome? Hey where the heck are you? I need your help with something. Rome: Quit hollering at me woman! I'm in the bedroom watching the game. Aren't you ready yet? Juliet comes in the room hair unfixed, face bare of make up and wearing a full slip. She holds and unclasped necklace around her neck and stands between Romeo and the TV.

Julie: Could you fasten this for me please? Romeo: Just a minute! Just a minute! Julie, scoot over! There's only ten seconds left. The Verona Gondolas are only down by three. Julie: Are you even ready yet? We have to be out of here in just a few minutes. Are you aware of this? The casserole! Tell me you got the casserole out of the oven like I asked you to do. Rome: Casserole? Y eh, the casserole. What about it? Juliet, completely ignores him, and hold the necklace in front of hts face.

Julie: Put it on me!

Rome: Oh, right! Tum around and hold up your hair. I always get those little annoying baby hairs of your stuck in the hook part. (looking at TV) Oh! Oh! We stole the ball! We stole the ball! Yeh--! He missed? He missed! The man is less than five feet away from the hoop and he missed it. I thought these guys were supposed to actually put the ball through the hoop. (talking to television) You are not paid to miss buddy! Yeah, you better put that bald head of yours in your bands- you wuss! Sit down on that benchstay there! I can't believe a shot like that cost the game. I just lost twenty bucks to your dada over a b-ball player wannabe who should have stayed in the chess club! Julie: (pausing to make sure the rant is over) Honey? Rome: Yeah? Julie: Get the casserole!

Romeo goes to the kite/zen and opens an oven. With hot pads. he takes the casserole out of the oven as he pushes the racks back and finally returns to the bedroom. Meanwhile Juliet babbles on. Julie: I hope the roads are okay. Morn called to ask if Mickey is coming. Oh, and she made it a point to remind us to be there before dad gets horne so he can't give you a hard time about always being late. Are you listening? Rome: Yes dear, intently! Julie: Mickey called last night. He left on the 10:00 flight out of Denmark. Ben is picking him up at the airport. Rome: How was his vacation? Did he sound like be liked Denmark? Julie: He dido 't have much time to talk, seems like I can never stop and talk to his mother. I don't think he was crazy about the place actually. He said something about being in a nutshell? But, it sounds like be's bringing his new girlfriend back with him! Rome: Oh good Lord! Not again. That kid has a new true love every other month. Julie: Well, we certainly know where be got that from. Rome: And just what are you implying oh wicked wife of mine? Julie: Only that ramjet rookie is on his way to being just like his father.

Juliet now with her hair and her make up done grabs a perfume bottle and starts to sweep across the room as if dancing on a cloud, clutching the bottle close to her heart.

Julie: Oh, Rosaline my sweet! What was it that Ben told me you said? Oh yeah! Tut, I have lost myself. 1 am not here. This is not Romeo~ he's some other where. (hunches over in a fit of giggles) Rome: (snickering) Okay, okay. So I may have had a dramatic flare for romance. That's not so bad is it? Julie: Personally, I think it was a glandular thing. Rome: Well, she was cute but she didn't come close to ahving an effect on me like you did. I would never have tried to kill myself over her. Julie: Well, that's a good thing because you may have gotten it right the first time. You know hun, dad's going to tell that story again tonight. It cracks him up that you were jipped by that guy you bought that poison from. That crook had you believing that you'd be seeing angels within seconds. Whatever it was that you took only left you sick and delirious for a week. Rome: I wasn't that sick. I thought that I handled it pretty well. Julie: Pretty well? You were puking behind the sarcophagus when I woke up-ruined all the flowers. You were laid up in the hospital for days talking about little sparkly people and barking at the nurses. Rome: I chalk it up as an epiphanous experience experience. Besides I've always hated hospitals. I still bark at the nurses. Juliet comes over and kisses Romeo on the forehead. She notices his tie and grabs it.

Julie: You aren't really going to wear that, are you? Rome: Wbat? There is nothing wrong with this tie. Juliet walks over the amoire and chooses a different tie and tosses it to him.

Juliet: Here consider it a favor. Ben would have had a riot bashing you over that tacky thing. Oh, those days really were hell weren't they? But I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. I mean, we aJI came out of it. Our families finally realized that how stupid they were being. Who would have ever thought that would happen? Remember how your dad and my dad bonded during the wedding of my nurse and your old servant? They had so much fun making fun of the newlyweds they were practically joined at the hip by the time the dance began. Grumpy cynics must attractthey even hugged good-bye that night. Romeo moves to the corner of the bed and begins to change his tie

Rome: Well, it was kind of a strange wedding. I don't think there's ever been such a weird pair. But you have to hand it to them. They are the merriest couple I've couple I've ever come across. Where are they now anyway? Julie: Our dads? Rome: No, genius! Balthasar and his babe. Julie: Oh, Ummm ... Windsor I think. Rome: Speaking of babe, I stopped by your office the other day to take you to lunch and I met your new secretary. (rasies eybrows sarcastically) Julie: Ruby? It's a dye job and they're fake! She is great to have around though. She lost her husband three years ago so the really communicates well with my patients. Romeo having struggled all this time, finally manages to put on the tie. He removes a shoe and fz:xes a twisted sock

Rome: I heard that Friar Lawerence got out of rehab. And is going to be at this reunion? Julie: Really? I feel so bad about not having gone to visit him more often. It's too bad you can'tjust up and leave your job when you want to. We could have gone to see him on his last birthday if the Vemelli's sewer pipe hadn't burst. You need to hire another apprentice. Rome: I'm sure that he will understand, but I'm glad that he's going to be there. It has been a while. Oh, I here he's also bringing the wine. Julie: Gee whiz! Has anyone thought of maybe sending it off to a lab first? What if he drppped a few Mescal buttons into the vat? We'd all be tripping over the tablecloth by dessert! Rome: (laughs) It would do wonders for the table conversation. Anything would be better then having to listen to another one of my mother's dramatic dialogues. (changing mood) Hey Juliet. Juliet chooeses a dress out of the armoire, slips it on and pulls a pair ofshoes out ofthe drawer.

Julie: Yeah hun? Rome: Can 1 ask you something? Julie: Nope!

Rome: Come on, I'm serious- ! want to ask you something. Julie: I'm sorry. What do you want to know? Rome: What would you have done if the poison would have worked? Julie: I bate to even think of it. I almost died that day Romeo. I knew then, that you were my reason for living. I don't think I would have wanted to live without you. I know that you were my strength and without you I. . .l would have been empty. Rome: Do you still .. .I mean its been so long. You've bad time to catch me in all my bad habits. You know that I bite my toenails, and always forget to clean my ears. Julie: The Jove we found and everything we've been through bonded us together for life Rome. It may seem like the flames are low and we're left with embers. Just remember that the embers burn hotter than flame, even though you bite your toenails. Whats up with all this talk anyway? Rome: Oh, talking about our teen years just made me curious to see if I still do it for you like in the old days.

Juliet walks over to Romeo sits on his knee, and drapes her arms over his shoulders. Julie: You are still my Lord. I know you and I like the man that you are.

Juliet slowly reaches down between his legs and kisses his mouth. Julie: And I definitely still feel it! (shifting moods completely) Oh my God! What time is it? Rome: What? Julie: Is your jacket in the closet? Rome: My jacket? Come back ov .... Julie: I'll find it. I already locked the back door and turned down the thermostat. The dogs are at the neighbors, right? I need my earrings. Rome: But... but! (sigh) I'll get the casserole.

Juliet gets the coats while Romeo gets the casserole. They meet at the front door and Romeo helps her with her coat. Julie: Did you fill up the car yesterday? Do you think the casserole will be okay? Do I look all right?

Rome: Of course, my Lady. And I washed the windows and fixed the breaks. The casserole ts a feast, and Juliet is the sun. Julie: Oh Romeo. You've always been such a sap! Narrator: A grooming n1b this evening, The sun tomorrow will be as red. Go hence, and hear no more talk of these petty thingsSome which shall be pardoned and some punish-ed For enduring love has found its home In the hearts ofJulie and her Rome.

Windmill Windmil1 prairie watchmen skyscraper of the plains weary battle tested rustic solider. --Erik Gjovik

The gold ripe stalks of wheat a constant wondrous glow that which the fields present to us En masse. --Erik Gjovik

Progress - North Dakota --David Craigo

Summer Breeze By Tiff Warner

He sits and watches as she struggles with her load, five small children and all their dirty clothes. His eyes fixed on her delicate hands as she silently sits and sorts, lights, whites, darks, andjeans,asif she were sorting nuclear chemicals, with extreme concentration and caution. She balances a small child on her knee, while four more crawl around her on the floor. The children whine and rub their eyes, because it is way past their bedtime. He watches her small figure glide across the floor to pour more quarters into the slots. She throws in a Downy ball and her laundry begins to roll through waves of hot soapy water. Around and around she watches the clothes flow, dirt running out into the water that was so pure. She begins to dream of that time at the beach, two young hearts clean and pure, dancing on the waves above the ocean floor. Watching the waves crash onto the sand, while her innocence slipped off

into the night, beneath the ocean waves and the deep blue sky. She dreams of when they fell in love and all they needed was each other, now all he wants is to climb that ladder. She ponders hard to remember the last time they spent an evening together. Her day is filled with household chores and nursery rhymes, rocking the babies and feeding them dinner. If only someone could see her loneliness. All it would take is a little time, to mend her heart, and stimulate her mind, a The buzzer sounds and

the wash is friendly smile and a listening ear. The buzzer sounds and the wash is done, it's placed into the dryer now to be spun. He jumps up from his seat, startled she looks at her feet. He helps her with the wash and begins to talk, realizing the loneljness she feels. With a smile she begins to speak of forgotten dreams and daily trials. He lends an ear and her smile returns, now she can go on again. Her life is worth living again, and all it took was a kind smile and the ear of a stranger.

True Love I see them drowrung in their sap. I see them burning in their fire. I see them hanging from cloud nine. I see them dying to be together.

-Heather Kransky

Ambitions of Newly Win2ed Insects How strangely beautiful it seems; That as soon as insects gain use of their wings They become seduced by some shining light, Mistaking it for their fated source of Comfort, pleasure, and delight. Backyard electric Temptress' . Seductive blue lights promising romantic bliss. Fatal kiss exchanged above an evening's back porch Ending all hope of true love as he Succumbs to this false torch. Once I came to a nation's flag Complete with lights needed to fly a flag at night. The scent of the recent slaughter made me nauseous. Infinite lives lost in the name of Power and Policies. I have also seen those dark specks Residing on a stain glass window's brilliant scene. Glass and dye depict an inspired vision. Soft glow of art and religion becomes A blissful addiction. How strangely beautiful it seems; That as soon as insects gain use of their wings They become seduced by some shining light, Mistaking it for their fated source of Comfort, pleasure, and delight.

--Eric John Lorentz Lindblad

Untitled --Anna Butgereit

35 ,.

Untitled --Rachelle Kadrmas

Protector By Marty Steidl "What are you doing?" my brother Ryan asked me. "I told you to only pick the older eggs. They work the best." Ryan was sitting perched up in the rafters of the chicken coop. From the position where I was standing, he reminded me of a rooster protecting his hens. His uncombed hair stood at least two inches from the top of his head. His face was dirty since it probably hadn't been washed since the morning before. At age eleven, he was cute in the boyish sense. He stood about five feet two inches tall and was thin, almost scrawny. His green eyes sparkled as he thought about what we were going to do. "Hurry up. We've got things to build," Ryan said impatiently jumping down from his perch in the rafters. "How do you know what eggs is old?" I asked. "The ones in that nest over there are old. I didn't pick those this morning, so they're old."

"I think that I got 'em all. Can we go hunt snakes now?" I asked. "We can't build the stove." I followed Ryan out of the chicken coop, past the skunk house, down to the Quonset. ''Here, hold these while I get some rope." Ryan said as he handed me four bricks that almost made me topple. He picked them up with such ease, I thought I could hold them. "Be careful," he said," We don't want them to break 'cause Dad will be really mad if you do." He made a face mimicking one that Dad makes when he's angry. It was a stern look. A look that could chill a heart. The way Ryan did it made me laugh. For the first time in my life, I noticed that when Ryan made that face he resembled Dad. However I think that Ryan really looks more like Mom. He has a very distinctive square jaw, small, close set green eyes, a low forehead that almost covered his eyes, and small lips. His nose is like nobody else's in the family. It reminds me of Tom Cruise' s nose. His cheeks are hollow and rosy from the sun. He is

small, but he has a few small muscle bulges. His fingers are long and strong. He moves in a manner that is smooth. He always knows exactly what he's doing, and where he's going. "Quit day dreaming and hand me the rope," he said interrupting my thoughts. I handed him the rope and went back to the spot where I was standing. "Tell me again, Ryan, what we are doing." "We are going to catch snakes, put them on top of the bricks, and smash eggs on them." "Why do we smash eggs on them?" I asked. "It dries out the snakes. It hardens their body so that they can't move. Then they bake in the sun. You aren't afraid of snakes, are you?" At six years old, I thought that I was brave and that nothing could scare me, espessically when Ryan was around, I felt that Ryan would protect me if I got scared. He always did. When nightmares came at night, Ryan was always the one who would wake me up and comforted

me. ''I'm not afraid of snakes. I want to smash lots of eggs on 'em. That will teach those snakes!" I replied trying to sound brave. As I watched Ryan, I began to daydream about what the snakes looked like. They were my nemesis, and I had to destroy them. "It's almost finished. Now those snakes will wish they never met us!" Ryan said. "Ahh, Ryan," I said as I looked down into the face of a snake that had started crawling up my leg. Its eyes were beady like a weasel's. Its tongue, forked in a Y shape, was slithering from its mouth making the snake look like it thirsted for my blood. Its diamond-shaped head was moving from side to side with its tongue sliding from its mouth as it inched its way slowly up my leg. "I hope this thing works. Then we can sell it for millions of dollars," Ryan said excitedly. "Ahhhh, Ryan!" "What?" "There's a snake crawling up my leg. Get it offl Get it offl" I screamed as the snake got closer to my knee.

"Don't move, or it might bite you!" Hurry, Ryan. Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Ryan slowly got up from where he was crouching over the bricks. He moved towards me slowly, contemplating his attack point. His face and actions were calm, but I knew he was anxious to get the snake off because he kept rubbing his hands together in a slow steady motion. He lunged forward, grabbing the snake just below the head. At that second, I passed out. When I awoke a few seconds later, Ryan was standing over me, holding the snake. He asked me ifl wanted to do the honors of smashing the first egg. He had a look of triumph in his eyes when he asked me that. It was a look that I knew well since I had seen it several times before. I quickly got up from where I was lying, and grabbed two eggs. Ryan held the snake over the bricks by standing on its tail and the middle of its body. He looked like he was getting pleasure out of holding the snake as its head ran frantically from side to side trying to

escape the fate that awaited it while I smashed egg after egg on it. Ryan stood on it for a while longer allowing the eggs to start drying. When he let the snake go, we watched it slowly slither away and come to a halt a few feet away from us. Ryan yelled, "that'll teach you to scare my sister you stupid, ugly snake!" As I look back at what Ryan meant to me, I smile and sometimes laugh. He was my protector, He showed me adventure and fun, but always made sure that I was safe. I love my brother and nothing could ever change that.

Why Poets aren't Rich

Lots for sale? I never buy lots. I'd rather buy six, Or a dozen. --K. C. Hanson

Untitled --Robert Merry

Airplane Man-continued from pg. 15 to go talk to someone else at a class reunion and Todd wanted to know what time it was, and that was after Todd already had a few beers. Julie figured that Todd had just decided to give up talking since he married Paula. "Hi Paula," said Gloria with a fake smile on her face, "it's been so long. What have you been up to?" Julie decided that she should make her exit before Paula became too obnoxious.

-----------------------------"There he goes again," whispered Lucas to Matt, "you'd think that his arms would get tired sometime. "I wonder what's wrong with that guy?" Matt asked, "He must be on drugs or something." "No kidding," Lucas replied. The boys sat staring at the man "Should we follow him?" Matt asked, "I mean we got nothing else to do, we've been sitting by this fountain for the past 20 minutes." "Sure, why not?" Lucas said with a shrug

ofhis shoulders. ''Nothing else exciting is happening." "Well, he's still at it," Jon said with a smile, as he walked past the two boys, "I wonder what's wrong with this guy? He won't stop pretending he's an airplane." Lucas and Matt followed Jon as he continued to follow the man. The crowds in the mall continued to separate in order clear a path for the oddball, exchanging confused and amused glances with one another. The man just looked straight ahead with the blank expression on his face, flying through the crowds.

-----------------------------"Oh yes, Sarah is so excited about going to the prom. Did you know 5 boys have already asked her to go?" Paula said as her face lit up, like it always did when she was bragging. "She said she felt bad turning down so many of them, but she already told Brian Jenson, the basketball player, that she would go with him. So who is Julie going to the prom with, does she have a boyfriend?"

"Oh no, she doesn't have a boyfriend ... " Gloria paused for a second "but that's because I don't want to let her date just yet. She's just going with one ofher friends, Dylan." "Oh well, that's sweet," Paula said snobbishly. The three walked on. Paula went on talking about how much work she had to get done before Sarah's graduation, and Gloria nodded and smiled while Todd followed carrying Paula's shopping bags. Paula was busy explaining how stressed out she was about getting everything perfect for the big day, when Paula and Gloria heard a large thud behind as if something had dropped to the floor. They quickly turned around and saw Todd on the floor with all of the shopping bags scattered around. Todd quickly got to his feet, and pushed a man wearing a black suit coat. The man almost lost his balance, but recovered and continued walking as if nothing had happened with his arms suspended in the air on each side of him.

suspended in the air on each side of him. "Hey you!" Todd called out to the stranger. There was no answer. "Why don't you watch where the hell you're going?" Todd said, raising his voice, as he ran up to the man in the suit coat. lfTodd wasn't already upset, we became even more aggravated when the man gave him no answer and kept walking. "I said, why don't you watch where you're going!" Todd said as he grabbed the man and shook him violently. The blank expression on the face of the man remained. "Todd stop it!" Paula begged "Just settle down, leave him alone!" The fuss caught the attention of the crowd, and everyone stopped and gathered around to get a better view of the conflict. "What the hell's wrong with you? Can't you watch where the hell you're going!" Todd stepped right in front of the lunatic, and screamed, "Answer me! What the hell is you're problem?"

Julie heard the commotion and ran over to see what all the excitement was about. Todd had made a fist and had grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and was almost holding him up in the air, while the man looked at Todd with his empty stare. "Todd put him down!" Paula cried out from the crowd. Jon came running through the crowd. He tried to break up the conflict, but Todd wasn't listening to anything anyone had to say. "What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you some kind of maniac? Why don't you put your anns down, before I break them in half." Todd's face was beat red, and veins were popping out of his neck, but the man's face remained calm. "What the helJ are you doing? Why don't you put your fucking arms down? Todd gave the man another push, and a small necklace with a crucifix jumped over the collar of the man's shirt. The man didn't answer the questions he just stared back. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Why the

hell are you pretending to be Jesus? Are you listening to me? Jesus Christ! Quit pretending to be something that you're not! Do you think this some kind of joke? Because I don't think it's very fucking funny!" Todd screamed. He was growing more furious by the minute, and chest was heaving fiercely. "What are you some kind of crazy bastard who thinks he's going to save us? What the hell is wrong with you!" The crowd was motionless. A silence came over the group. Jon got to the center of the action and urged Todd to let go of the man, before he was forced to call the cops. Todd let go of the man with a push and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Todd picked up the bags ofthe floor and began to walk off, muttering to himself under his breath, while Paula ran after him.

-----------------------------The man stood alone in the circle of people. "Okay everybody," announced Jon, "nothing else left here to see." The crowd's volume increased as they began

to ask questions and share their account of the story as they slowly dissolved and began to go on with their business. Jon asked the man if he was okay, but there was no reply. Jon thought it was no use to try and get the name of the man or any other information, so he told the man he should go home. The man looked at Jon. Jon pointed to the doors, and the man slowly made his way to the exit sign, with his arms resting at his sides. Jon saw the two teenage boys sitting watching the man, and told them to forget about him because he was just a little crazy. The boys exchanged glances and then disappeared into the crowd.

"Mom, what was that all about?" asked Julie after she found her mom telling a small group of people she had never met what the situation was all about. "Oh this ... deranged man," Julie's mother began saying in her best storytelling voice, "knocked poor Todd over and started this huge production. The man had to be crazy, he just didn't look

right in the eyes ... " and with that statement the surrounding group nodded in agreement. The group began to grow as more and more people shared their version of the story of how the disrespectful man totally ignored the fact that he had done anything wrong, and how upset they would be if someone didn't apologize for knocking them over. An elderly woman, who was hunched over a small wooden cane, cried out, "People these days just don't know how to act decent." Again, several members of the group nodded in agreement. A young boy from the herd of people asked, "Why wouldn't he put his arms down?" Before the young boy could close his mouth, several other people were already asking their own questions. Julie spoke up when there was a break in questions, before anyone had a chance to answer them, "Did anyone make sure the man was all right." The crowd looked at her for a second; there was no response. Julie looked

around and only saw confused looks and blank stares, before the other members of the group continued their series of unanswered questions.

My Lover By Mindy Lynam His hair frames his face like the mane of a lion with its golden highlights that glisten like wheat in the summer sun. His eyes are like none I have ever seen before; they are deep, sincere, and wise. His eyes remind me of a rainstorm. They are constantly brewing and flashing. I imagine to myself that these are the eyes of a genius, a philosopher. His mind is sharp and his mind is quick. The conversations that we divulge in are engulfing and mystifying. Lingering over dinner, coffee, or wine. We can take a novel and strip it of the facts and reveal the delicate innermost symbolism. Glance at the world as we know it and express our philosophies that are intertwined with fact and fiction. Searching our mind for thoughts that have never been captured on paper. Commitment is something that he does not want, neither I. I knew from the brink of my infatuation that he did not want commitment. I knew this since the moment I laid eyes on him. He has so much to offer me. Then I silently, ever so silently, ponder to myself what do I have to offer him. Young, knowledgeable beyond my years, yet my wisdom can not even compare to his years of living and learning. Brilliance is constantly trickling out in conversations or a passing comment. I am trying constantly to march the brilliance that is whirling around me. Soaking, savoring every word that he articulates, anticipating his next thought that I know will reflect his genius. Where will this go and what will I be? I will be his lover. Giving the fire that has escalated in his blood. Receiving the fires of his passion in equal gratification. I do not know his complete view on me, but does that matter? What I do know is that fire and sparks can never lead to anything anti-climatic. The person that tries to control him will lose him. The person that plays equally difficult to get is the one he will pursue. Who wants what anyone could have? They don't it is more of a prize to have something that is more difficult to obtain. This difficulty is what I'll be. I want him above and beyond all things. It isn't that I'm beautiful or cute, but quite interesting. No one would dare argue with that.

My lover says that I am beautiful, but not in those words. He says that I have perfect olive skin, and the strong mid-western curvy highly feminine portions. My lover's and my looks are complimentary to each other. Mentally we are well matched. He looks upon himself as a lion and looks at me as a lamb, but am I? Here I sit taking a friend with a slight romantic inclination and twisting, turning, and manipulating this friendship with my mind to get him, my friend, to be my lover. In order for him to be my lov.er I would have to seduce him. Displaying my enchanting powers. Controlling the relationship, trading the place of the lamb and the lion. This man who will be my lover came over to my house. A cup of coffee, some good music, and a hour later ... twenty minutes of hot, refreshing, sensual passionate kisses bum in my soul for hours afterwards. The sweet whispers that are transpired between my souls in these moments of arousal. "I want you", "I need you", "I hunger for you" .... Our bodies longing for a merger, but our minds standing in their boundaries. I don't know what encourages him to restrain his physical urges. I long to place moist tender kisses all over his body. Caressing every inch of his body with every inch of mine. Paying no attention to the standing thought of commitment or love. Listening to the ID of a man. Pushing us on to the exultation that our bodies so desire.

SOLITUDE The sea otter floats lazily in the quiet cove, away from the activity of the Alaskan Harbor. He appears to be taking a nap as his paws are resting on his chest. His tail serves as a rudder, stabilizing his movement. He is content as he enjoys his solitude, he is being watched from the cliff above. Two hikers have discovered a photogenic treasure. Their film captures this creature in a rare moment of inactivity. They are delighted to have the opportunity to watch the otter in its natural habitat. The stillness of the moment is interrupted as a raven scolds the intruders with it raucous wammg cry. The otter is far enough away that he remains oblivious to his audience above. --Ginny McGriff

Untitled --Kelly Koppinger

THE PLACE Your child learns of imagination and savors and plays with his mind He becomes that major league broadcaster the dashing hero on horseback. His battles that are fought and won never more serious than fun. You dreamed of this place once or twice Could it be boring now, in your older age? You could place dogs with their owners and smell the fresh baked rhubarb pie You knew the place quite well before you left to search for your dreams. Go back, take a walk through the town from which you sprouted Who left? Who stayed? why is everything so much smaller? How many are not there to be told how much you loved them before they left. Better go back and find the place you see, love only works on contact. --David Craigo

Into her ears She has inserted two Safety pins. One into each earlobe. Next to these she wears The diamond earrings --which I bought her. It almost makes me cry --When I think about how Beautiful that is.

--Eric John Lorentz Lindblad

The High-Schooler Diana, Huntress, shifting subtle, from Her girlfriendâ&#x20AC;˘s cliquish huddle, arches forth the Breasts of God, Earth and Heaven, clever bodIce lurching, cross-room cuddle. A bough of cherries! A priest to Her! Though hot lust's gaze lay Troy to rubble. Could Her roar not beget a purr? But of trouble such, one is never sure.

--KC. Hanson

Untitled --Holly Vander Vorst

Epilogue Some say we create art as a way of dealing with life, kind oflike drinking or smoking or any other bad habit you can become good at. Others say we write because life is so damned boring or because we can' t deal with death and have to immortalize ourselves somehow. I don' t know. I really don't have any idea why we create art, but we do. We insist on producing the stuffjust like we insist on eating and drinking and sleeping and screwing each other's brains out. Putting a magazine together, on the other hand, is at best, a bad habit. It takes far too many cigarettes and too much whiskey to put the damned things together. This is my fourth, and possibly fmal, magazine here at DSU. And it is possible me and Eric and Erik still wouldn't have managed to put anything together if it weren't for the help of Ted Munkacsi and Chris Lindblad. Until they volunteered I was just planning on e-mailing all the stuff you people submitted to Kris Dassinger up in Alaska. She knows more about these things than I do. Anyway, thanks to those two for the pizza and the mix and the helping hand, and to Doc Solhiem for not giving up on us even though we are running a bit late. And thanks to everyone who turned stuff into or picked up a copy ofthis magazine to read. I'm out of cigarettes so I'm going to quit writing now.

--K. C. Hanson