STATE OF THE UNION

by Tin Fogdall

AI-generated graphic by NightCafé for The New Verse News.

Sun draws

around window blinds

eight gold lines:

 

twin parallelograms, 

a pair of coffins, 

two bucks. 

 

Once again, my man’s 

freckled skin,

robes on two hooks,

 

the ceiling still

whole, unpierced

 

by ammunition

—one more time the magazines

emptied elsewhere.

 

Let’s be honest:

I pulled on two socks, 

two clever shoes so I could walk

 

on burning ground

without having to feel

the flames.

 

One more time, a body grows

cold under plastic.

It wasn’t me.

 

I strolled down the street, 

brick by brick 

in honeycombed 

 

tessellations—

it went on

forever. Around my neck,

 

the smallest tiles.

See how the bones

sparkle.

Author’s note: CNN updated their school shooting statistics 17 hours ago (as of this writing), presumably to include Bend, OR. The number? 52.

Tin Fogdall was born in Seattle, adopted by New England, and is living in Vermont. Her work has appeared in The Threepenny Review, Poetry, The Missouri Review, The New Republic, and many other journals. She is a finalist for the National Poetry Series, a finalist in the Jeffrey E. Smith Editors’ Prize at The Missouri Review, a former New Hampshire Poetry Fellow, and has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize. She earned her M.A. in creative writing from Boston University. Follow her on Instagram @kmfogdall.

THE ARCHITECTURE OF DEMOCRACY

by Jim Kelly

To replace a house,
it is ill-advised
to randomly weaken
the foundation.

To tamper with gas lines
while informed only
by ignorance.

To pull wires
without knowing
where they lead
or what they serve.

To rip out windows
and collapse
the hand-designed,
custom wooden frames.

To remove the roof
during rain
before the expensive,
antique floors
are protected.

To pull down walls
without understanding
how weight is distributed—
how each beam,
each brace,
each hidden support
helps hold up
the whole frame
of Democracy.

And some now shout:

“Damn the building codes.”
“Damn the building plans.”

As if survival itself
were an inconvenience.

As if restraint,
inspection,
and measured repair
were enemies
instead of protections.

Forgetting:
a reckless demolition
does not always end
with open sky.

Sometimes
it ends
with collapsed Democracy.

Jim Kelly is a California poet whose work explores democracy, race, and social justice. His poetry has appeared in Litro Magazine, Urban Pen Magazine, and Urban Poems.

AFTER READING THE HEADLINES

by Howie Good

Image source: Julia's Journical

I went
along the road.
Gravediggers
followed.
They followed
everywhere,

eavesdropping
on painful
memories

being
described
in hushed
tones.

Suddenly
the sun set.
The red
came off
on my hands.

Nobody said,
How sad.

Night was
a dark room.
The stars
were the holes
in the ceiling.


Howie Good, a journalism professor at SUNY New Paltz, is the author of five poetry collections, most recently Cryptic Endearments from Knives Forks & Spoons Press. He has a number of chapbooks forthcoming, including Elephant Gun from Dog on a Chain Press. His poetry has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net anthology. goodh51(at)gmail.com.