Teen Talk

May/June 2003

The Poet
by Evelyn Duffy

The unforgiven product
of a long, uncertain past,
he waits within the shadows,
searching for a chance
to be free.
Locked deep within a closet,
stifled and unfed,
he rests upon the floor,
dreaming of the day
he will finally break free.
He lingers in the cobwebs
of a closed-off, darkened mind,
languishing in rhyme.
He knows a little beauty,
he knows a wounded pride;
he has not lived his life,
he has not been free.

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Heavy Fruit
by Liza Monroy

Picking that fruit
led to heavy feet
as one walks out of
the garden
and now a creepiness
comes and hovers
over the pen and how
I hold it
Forgive me, Linette
for I’m unsure of
life and the manner
in which I live
it
familiar flowers
whose scent
I memorized
and embraced
now are foreign
to my nose the
fruit is alien
in fields of wild
pepper and
sausage
picnic blanket
is a teepee now
my eyes are playing
tic tac toe
on the sticky
checkered
sheet
unknown
and not aware
of the ivy
crisscrossing the
tomb and the cruddy creek
There’s not a thing
I recognize
not even the warbling of
the thick throated
loon--the--cry--
smooth but high
like it
slipped through
the inside of a hula-hoop
before coming out the other
side
the chickens here
outnumber
the eggs
the itty bitty spider crawled down
the water spout
down comes the snow
and breaks the
spider’s little nose
no one knows
my motive as I
travel back here
again
day after day
in this
garden fuzzed
out by reeds
where the people
recognize each
other but they
never welcome
me

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