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Selections from the J-Term study away photo contest winners


Save me from silence!
Daniel Mooney ’06

Words thicken like
sour milk, drip
down my chin
in chains of broken
phrases, and are
lost to all but
the sickly stray
lapping letters at my feet.
Eyes scream panic,
plead with you
to wipe the words from my
mouth, lick
your fingertips,
and find them sweet and complex,
a fine wine to
you,
the only connoisseur of
what I have to say.

Tending the Details
Kent Leatham ’06

When our neighbors died –
one from AIDS
and six months later
his partner, a bartender,
In a head-on with a drunk –

their ashes were scattered in the flowerbeds
in front of their house,
and I suppose you could
discuss the beautiful clichés

but I wonder more about
the couple that bought the house
and the wife in a sundress
on her hands and knees
arranging Richard and Bruce.

   

Who Are These Children?
Karyn Ostrom ’05

Before the child became
a tenor, he dreamed of beds
covered with cruel
comic books and rotting
fruit, where he slept
between his brother and the sun,
with one hand between
his sad legs – the other,
between his brother’s.

When his brother left
for war in June, the tenor
delighted in summer words
and still evenings,
model airplanes and vanities,
turning the screw and
consuming pears, and men who
walked like women.

When the sun resigned
itself to their father’s churchyard of
clover and hash and winter words,
and bedtime, his brother
slept beneath quilts
of grass and Bibles, riddles, and larks.
Across the sea,
the tenor sang
himself to sleep.

Because it Wasn't
J.P. Kemmick '06

Remarkable because it wasn't
one of those moments when
his insides turned and
his heart began to keep
double time

Remarkable
because it usually did

But
she naturally rested
in his arms
sunk there like he was a chair
she had been falling asleep in
for years

He smelled her hair
and untangled its curly strands
from his tongue
and they were peaceful
entangled like sheets in the wind
left on the clothesline
to dry



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