by Michael Igoe I want you to rise up,as if from sleep,feel the same wakefulnessyou get when you’re drowning.You must rise in bliss,let yourself play in traffic.You need to take part,in the multicolored parade,a vast opportunity to roast.Off the back porch,covered by your britchesI want the shirt off your back.Please fade into ancient hotelssip black coffee while you clean. Michael Read More
Tag: rise
Rebel-sound
by Philip Berry Amy, 11, couldn’t know how the day would end. In the sharp metallic hour as the first train rolled in, ideas danced and hope thrummed. While thickening rivulets of opinion moved calmly among the city’s sand-blasted flanks and reflective skins, father could not see what the streets held. Nor could mother sense the rising threat, her gaze Read More