SOUND BITES

A Found Poem Pantoum of Shit I Read in the News
by Brady Riddle

More Shit found from #TRE45ON

One day, it’s like a miracle, it will disappear.
We inherited a broken test, a dead system
that didn’t work. One of the worst things that didn’t work.
Great marks for handling the infectious source!

We inherited a broken test, a dead system:
You got it wrong! They didn't use tear gas.
Great marks for handling protesters there!
Pepper spray is not a chemical irritant. 

You got it wrong! They didn't use tear gas—
riot control agents make people unable.
Pepper spray is not a chemical irritant. 
These THUGS dishonor Peace, on his knees, hands up.

Riot control agents make people unable
to rally against the death, the outrage.
These THUGS dishonor Peace, on his knees, hands up.
False and misleading claims, most of them from the past

rally death, outrage, control, downplay the situation—
that didn’t work. None of the things even worked.
False and misleading claims, most of them from the past
one day, like a miracle, will disappear.

Brady Riddle currently resides in Shanghai, China where he teaches secondary English at Shanghai American School. His poems can  be found in Lean Seed (San Jacinto College, Houston, TX), Ottawa Arts Review (University of Ottawa Press),  Spittoon Collective (Beijing, China), and most recently A Shanghai Poetry Zine.

ACCOUNTABLE

Jim Hanson is a retired Senior Researcher at Southern Illinois University-Carbondale where he worked and taught in community development. He currently resides in the St. Louis area. He has a doctorate degree in sociology and is a lay-ordinated Zen Buddhist.

WHAT I TELL YOU THREE TIMES IS TRUE

by Sheila Wellehan

Seventh of Henry Holiday's original ilustrations to "The Hunting of the Snark" by Lewis Carroll. From Fit the Fifth: The Beaver's Lesson.

A lie told often enough becomes the truth. –Vladimir Lenin 

Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:  What I tell you three times is true. –Lewis Carroll

When you tell a story three times
it becomes the truth.

Assert it four times
you slam shut open windows and doors.

Spinning the false tale five times
kills every bee in its hive.

With the weight of six repetitions
tall buildings collapse and the sky rains bricks.

Singing the same song seven times
poisons every ocean, every lake.

If you mislead eight times
you blind everyone who’s survived.

When you deceive nine times
they believe it even in heaven.

Repeat a lie ten times
that’s it, it’s the end.

Sheila Wellehan's poetry is featured in Chiron Review, The Fourth River, Off the Coast, Poetry East, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. She lives in Cape Elizabeth, Maine.