Winning Poem
And a Blue Footed Boobie: Watching the Bonds Break
by Emily B.
“Would you pass me the sugar please, my dear?” “Of course,
darling.”
The terms of endearment laced with so much venom, they were received simply as ‘terms.’
I see the smear of another woman’s lipstick, staining the man’s
collar.
I smell the aroma of another man’s luxury cologne, engulfing the
woman’s body.
All the flyers coated in black and yellow that flew above choked from the tension, and fell to their demise
The same would happen to me, I fear.
I sit upon my perch, careful not to join them.
Two sets of young eyes stare from the windowsill. Young eyes that mirror the woman’s glitzy green irises. Two young mouths move in urgent whispers.
Young mouths that mirror the man’s pale puce lips.
The flaming ember between the man and woman had long extinguished into a cold ash. But,
it is because of the two young hearts,
that the man and woman will strive to rebind theirs.
Runners-up
Alluring Fraudulence
by Gabrielle M.
Peering at his face quick enough to not make eye contact, but long enough to
even be repulsed by
the cuisine on the table. His top hat grows with every
deceptive phrase he throws at me.
I combat this with an infectious smile
and reassure him I know what I am talking about. Drinking another glass of
wine to fight back yawning,
I grow impatient. My feet begin to ache because of my size too
small heel as do my cinched ribs.
Noticeably the tulips are quite mature and smell perfumed
enchanting the bees.
He finally slides me the black paper, however, before handing me the white feathered pen he asks, “Are you sure?”
Innocently I grab the pen.
Sign. Shake his scaly snow hand.
I parade off with my poker fading off as I look back,
smile, and yell,
“You are a blue footed booby, nothing more than a joke nothing less than
a joke!”
Swaying my hips as I ascend in the distance the sun sets in
my tremendous colors.
In the Last Moments
by Taylor M.
Why must they turn away from the echoes of our despair?
It is clear from the spots and stripes
that my brother and I are nearing the end. With no succor
in sight,
Mother and Father remain oblivious to our demise, lost to their
pleasures of drink and laughter.
I feel the quietus creep in, wondering who is
there to stop it. Do not fear, reaper—no one is
here. Mother and Father do not care,
nor do they rush to help. Brother and I
shall drift off, without so much as a
goodbye
from those who should love us more than any
possession in the sky.
As I look out the window, nearly succumbing to the darkness, I see what will
remain of my past life once I descend:
Mother,
Father,
and a Blue-Footed Boobie perched above indifferent to our fate,
the silent witness to our end.