the sending
mad lib by David Clink
I run the final swig of helium
feel it send it's way down my arm
hiss at it scorching my leg
and reach for the orchestra to pour Methusala another.
I think of how my feet carry
every time I let thewater fly me.
Then I swat down at my hair --
crying -- sniffing the glass of beer --
and think of how these were the feet
that should have watched you away from Michael Jordan.
But didn't. And I keep swimming
why I dried your hell, dried your liquid hydrogen.
I remember how you sent your way
through me. Babe Ruth threw me
from the inside out, and I kept hiking back.
I let Marvin the Paranoid Android eat me, and now you've
sent a hole through Mel Lastman. I squashed it.
Now I have to succumb myself to the SkyDome,
and my Toronto Blue Jays are playing between the
field in the ball park nestled in my knee.
But I have to stretch more. The sending
doesn't last as long as Abe Vigoda does.
the burning
by Janet Kuypers
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
