esprit | fall 2004

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Because I Love the
                   Woodchopper's Ball:
                   A Blues Sonnet
Scream it and Scram:
                   A Blues Sonnet
Wrinkles
Comfort
Seas and These
Seasonal Affective Disorder
Word in Words
Adam
A Lilliputian Script
31/2 Parrots
Jihad
Sparkles
Occlusion
Mother's Cradle
Me against the Music
Arash
Sex Appeal
The Poet's Brother and the
                   Language of Asperger's
Trinity
Together
Einstein's Afterlife Postcard
                   m=E/c2
 Our Skin
Poetry

Front Cover:
Central Park

Inside Front Cover:
Suicide

Inside Back Cover:
Peace

Back Cover:
Samsara

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Because I Love the Woodchopper's Ball:
             A Blues Sonnet

 

Brianna L. Noll

 

I shudder at a plastic-ridden age;
wood wore into me from an early age,
from infancy, my crib, that wooden cage.

I sat in drawers as a child, later lived
at the piano, but I always lived
in a wood-carved world, outside the jive

that controlled others' lives. I would whittle
wood-blocks with a knife; ivory I'd whittle
with pillowy fingertips that tittled

fancies for anyone who'd sit a while.
Some said the Romantics lit their fire, while
jazz and Woody Herman were more my style.

Time wears at us like sandpaper; we must
live and thrive until we become sawdust.

  

Submissions and inquiries:

Esprit
Room 221
McDade Center for Literary and Performing Arts
Scranton, PA 18510
(570) 941-4343

 

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Page last updated: Tuesday, 02. August 2005