Poetry

Face the Music by Dane Karnick

We compose
a rhapsody
of run-ons
over dinner
our glossaries
bag enough wind
to sing duets
with sentences
flaunting pages
of footnotes
we intonate
more harm
than harmony
and loose sense
in present tense
cramming clauses
in the margins
of libretto
our verbs yell
fortissimo
oh mamá mía
a new chapter
arguing
virtuosity
in pomposity
the cursive
of beliefs
spell off-key
as overtures
trade scores
like characters
switching novels
until we run
out of print
our tempo
abandoned
to orchestrate
a few words
of forgiveness.

Poetry · Politics

Poems by Claudia Serea

The prosecutor

My mouth lays mortar.
My words are bricks.

I build walls of speech
around others,

walls with eyes,
tall walls.

I hide people.
I disappear them.

They’ll never get out
the same.

Nobody will know
they ever existed,

only the wind
through empty streets.

The courtroom clerk

In the end,
all that remains
is paper,

carbon-
copied
minutes,

years
gathered
in a file.

No one will know
whose fingers
typed
those lives away,

only the hands
that signed
and stamped them.