Image provided by: Clackamas Community College; Oregon City, OR
About The Clackamas print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1989-2019 | View Entire Issue (May 31, 1995)
(D « Clackama Community Col leg May 31, 1995 DRIFTING AROUND When the moon thinks the stars come out and the cows jump around. When the moon knows, the galaxy will shift, the planets change and become rea . Nobody eats cows under a purple moon. One must eat chunks of sky, dipped in stariuice to survive. When the moon crystalizes moon scents circle. The cows that collide with all the planets die, and the wind blows, and the smoke echoes through the death of the sky. smoking the gun Lately, fve got smoke in my eyes. slowly dwindling the social note, exempt ot the plural pressures, of love, and roses, and peace. no laudenum for me to take, my good cousin. no garbage for me to take out, lest 1 walk outside. just pieces of view that have been coughed up recently. sure and well-read pounding the hurt like a pressured pulse. rum-raisin dessert looks good. slides into the open grease and the suds part tide. a crimson alligator stew on the wooden floor, runs its way downtown to the door, where the messenger sits, breathing heavily sour jesús, springs to life, waiting for delivery. these goddamn pans and pots and thick yellow linoleum floor. the brick within brick molden and nailed and carpeted to the floor. fumes rise from the trash and the straggly hairs that stick to the wet plastic shine, m the brilliance of the fog. a lot of words to gain wisdom. a lot of patchy, gray wrinkles from smoking the gun. a seafarer up past dawn, to bed before noon hits. you got the guts to run me ragged. the guts to run me into the ground. the hard patience, 1 cling to, trot by trot, disengaging the auto-pilot on my friendliness and parting a mean streak. firing pins and gas grenade bngades line up at the side of the kitchen, just east of the bathroom where all the hair is heaped in piles on the light blue horizon tiles. the green in the seams is from the lack of a stem, traded in for good-for-nothing vases, and plain flowers and towers of tupperware. take care the cleansing soil and throw away the goods. because this has never existed never breezed in here from any stiff stalking air they just came along with you and the Spanish nee and the long, hot, car nde home from hell. By Lora Wahreren ONE I NEVER KNEW... tell me how it feels to put all trust in you and have my soul melt into a human 1 thought was true tell me how it feels to be incredible joyful in day then cry in heavenly-like dreams when you are far away tell me how it feels to touch skm so pure and new press lips against cheeks t have known such softness from few tell me how it feels knowing each kind act will pay only to beg for forgiveness for things 1 never did or say tell me how it feels to have thought desire could last wake from a dream 1 never controlled to find you overhead, ready to blast tell me how it feels to know feelings will not stay you say 1 love too strong Please pull the trigger, and BLOW ME AWAY SO...how will it feel the day your soul feels the same pam when you get up to look back at me will not both hearts be stained? By Christopher Haberman C. Blaschke
