Cristiana Baik

Ode to Clouds

O clouds, you interstellar happenings, you
rhombus wisps
of transparent leaves, shaping sight - a familial
blossoming.   O wide wind seers, cirrus-drafts of curving
light, moving commas into mare’s
tails, writing that evaporates
into twines of kite
overtures.

O cumuli, down, down
accumulate, thicken into
different dreams, versions
of Shakespeare’s fat, shy neighbors, hymning
into separate colors, distinct, half-asleep
in the smoky troposphere.


Cristiana Baik's work has been published in Jacket Magazine, Conjunctions, American Letters & Commentary, and other publications. She runs ::: the press gang:::, a small press with fellow poet, Sara Wintz, and works as an editorial assistant for the Boston Review.

Christina Frigo & Aaron Belz

LIVING IN NEW YORK CITY IS LIKE DRINKING
FOUR GLASSES OF MILK IN A ROW
Christina Frigo


i.

Lights! There are so many lights:
stop kind, window kind, sun, moon, florescent kind, high-up kind, hanging, sconce,
floor, blinking, red, purple, stained glass kind, candle, flash, bright kind and People!
The People: loud kind, and creepy, smart kind, business, sexy, friendly, playing-bucket-
drums-in-the park-kind, rich, arty, snobbish, well-read/dressed/traveled/fed/thought of
kind, also the bright kind, and every kind, kind kind. Statues, too


ii.

Wow how bright these people and lights are!
should be dark but I'm squinting
neighbors shout for one of two reasons
and of course cars and construction
suggest ear plugs at night
but I have made friends with some kinds of people I am in love
with some kinds of light


iii.

This is not as easy-going as the first glass
Mom still can't find "reason to visit"
"seen all the statues, dear" Dad stopped sending money
This city
talks to traffic in tunnels
I want to touch these people
but I feel too far away


iv.

It smells like microwaved garbage
feces on statues: bird kind
on sidewalks: dog kind, People kind
lines are long
light makes what I don't want to see
I get stomach aches



FOUR GLASSES OF MILK
Aaron Belz


New York City—
luminous, populous,
and with statuary.

Also clangorous,
tumultuous—its populace
vociferous. Very.

Where are my parents?
Where are my parents?
I'm all out of money.

It's so malodorous
as to leave me
nauseous.


Christina Frigo has a poem in the current issue of decomP. She lives in New York City and has a degree in English from Illinois State University.

Aaron Belz’s first book, The Bird Hoverer (BlazeVOX, 2007) will soon be succeeded by Lovely, Raspberry (Persea). He keeps a blog at http://belz.wordpress.com and lives in Los Angeles.