WINNER OF INTERNATIONAL BAT WEEK, 2023

by Cecil Morris

Bureau of Land Management wildlife technician photographed William ShakespEAR, a female Townsend's big-eared bat, in Jackson County. William ShakespEAR won BLM's 2023 Bat Beauty Contest. Photo courtesy Emma Busk / Bureau of Land Management via Oregon Public Broadcasting.

William ShakespEAR—right, not the poet-actor-
playwright who, maybe, made your high school English
class a drag, but a Townsend’s big-eared bat—won
the National Bat Beauty Contest this Halloween
and brought his bouquet of mosquitoes and moths
home to Ashland in southern Oregon, home
of a pretty famous Shakespeare Festival
where, I must admit, I was not bothered by
any flying insects during an evening
performance of Romeo and Juliet
in the outdoor theater. So good on you,
William ShakepEAR. Perhaps you can bring back
glamour to big ears, which would benefit
me, a man almost 70, with thinning hair
and elongating ears (think King Charles III
or the pendulous lobes of Nicole Kidman).
I do not want to be Dumbo with a flat
tire, Dumbo depressed, or Alfred E. Neuman
deflated. Of course, you, Mr. ShakespEAR
have perky, pricked up, Doberman-like ears,
and I am sure no one makes fun of you.
Too bad Bat Week has not had the success
of Shark Week. We need a Spielberg thriller
with blood and menace: EARS. Who’s listening now?

 

Cecil Morris taught high school English for 37 years. Now retired, he spends his time writing poems and shaking his head at the news. He has poems in or forthcoming from Cimarron Review, Hole in the Head Review, The New Verse News, Rust + Moth, Sugar House Review, Willawaw Journal, and other literary magazines.

IN JEOPARDY

by Gary Glauber

 

My potent potable’s amber glow

reflects the lights and I reflect

that we are in jeopardy.

Everything has become a contest.

Surviving a Global Pandemic for 1000, Alex.

Science becomes a new focal point.

The game is charged with toxic partisanship

and many ignore even the obvious clues.

It’s a contest rife with unfathomed wonder,

close and chaotic and requiring an overall knowledge

that frightens the general populace,

yet the game continues to another round.

Heading to commercial, the camera

pans over a studio audience—too old, too white.

Suddenly, a few minutes of pharmaceutical ads

tells me of exotic brand names that can cure my ills

so long as I’m fine with a litany of side effects 

that seem worse than the targeted ailment.

And soon we are back. Alex battling

against his own threatened mortality;

contestants making small talk 

while trying not to self-embarrass

through slow or ignorant response.

Alex may chide them for being too young

to know a particular answer, and this

is the microcosm of how culture shifts,

the ways generational views differ on 

what defines patriotism, which lives matter.

Rule of Law for 600, Alex. 

Conspiracy Theories for 800.

The numbers indicate much is at stake

as we collectively head into the final round.

The category is irrelevant:

life revealed as a ruthless game.  

What are the parameters of true compassion?

When is a life worth less than economic progress?

Do the necessary math, then

wager it all when you realize this:

all the answers have been phrased as questions 

for far too long.   

Gary Glauber is a widely published poet, fiction writer, teacher, and former music journalist. He champions the underdog, and strives to survive modern life’s absurdities. He has three collections, Small Consolations (Aldrich Press), Worth the Candle (Five Oaks Press), and Rocky Landscape with Vagrants (Cyberwit) as well as two chapbooks, Memory Marries Desire (Finishing Line Press) and The Covalence of Equanimity (SurVision Books), a winner of the 2019 James Tate International Poetry Prize. Another collection, A Careful Contrition (Shanti Arts Publishing), is forthcoming soon.