A Fruitless Answer
by Mianyi Wang, UWCM
Stumbling,
We are intoxicated
Not in the cheapest bottle from Gall & Gall
Rather in an abstract notion we all pretend to know a little about.
Who wants to drink something without knowing its contents?
All of us,
We go all out.
Fumbling,
We become agitated
Not over our daily problems with IB
Our sober selves can complain about that.
Rather we become frustrated
Over why we are here
Drinking the juice in the first place.
Yet when asked if the juice is good
Five stars it is
We add a testimony to how it changed our lives
And there’s no doubt it did
But the chunks of apple and seeds of orange
Remain at the bottom of the cup
While the juice dries
The charm dies.
The Toilet and I (A Poem of Friendship)
by Karolis Margis, UWCM
Was it love at first sight
When two strangers first met?
Oh, please tell I’m right
Please don’t make me upset
It was toilet and I
Like the moon and the sun
I still wonder oh why
Why away did I run?
In the middle of night
With a sense of deep shame
I thought I was right
And the night is to blame
The toilet and I
Our love burned and bloomed
I want just to cry
For the fire left wound
I, me, myself, and some toilet (A response to “The toilet and I”)
by Manuel Mejia, UWCM
I need to run,
Where no one’s there,
Silence voice,
Nor say hello.
May some there,
None to care,
Time to spend,
Not complain.
Natural space,
Doors and locks,
Water falls,
Tears or more.
Once I was,
Full of mind,
Four walls and no one talks,
Space to breathe, space to cry.
Lonely hours,
Sleeping,
To last,
Sink and not sea.
When the doors have lock,
When the moat is close,
When the floor is cold,
When the night has fall.
When all has fail,
And some must rest,
Sleepless nights,
Dawn must wait.
Light,
Smoke,
Headphones
And floor.
Chairs no more,
Candles decor,
Some can come,
But no one ask.
Silence voice,
Nor say hello.
Time to spend,
Not complain.
A Haiku
by Zack Blakely, UWCM
Dear Airborne Ghostship,
A juice themed haiku for you:
What is in the juice?
More existential malaise.
No, not mayonnaise.
Yours in anchorage (no, not Alaska),
Zack
(Agoraphobic) Claustrophobia
by Anonymous, UWCM
Illustration by Daniela Lascurain
Tight spaces
scare me not
but this tiny,
fragile box
has held me hostage
– trapped –
for longer
than I am capable
of collectedly handling.
A waxing and waning infinity
suffocating within the confines
of this cranium-bound
ecosystem
of thoughts.
Claustrophobic…
towards myself?
I guess so.
…
Not ideal.
What’s in the Juice?
by Manon Fischer, UWCM
I wonder how
Am I to induce
This text just now:
A poem about juice
When life gives you lemons, what to produce?
A cake, a pie, or rather a juice?
What tool is there to use
To not fundamentally abuse
The power, the potential of the hypotenuse?
That has nothing to do with juice, I admit
Though I suppose that someone of wit
Will develop a deeper understanding
And thereby provoke a consciousness-expanding
A juice consists of fruit
Leastwise it should!
If not, it’s not good
And requires a lawsuit!
The fruit is the variable that can be exchanged
Whether orange or apple,
Carrot or a cattle
Or even tomato, it can be arranged
So what is in the juice,
Let’s not ask a goose
Quickly, to avoid constipation
It’s open to interpretation!
