Crest 2002

2002

crest 2002

0ak Park River Forest HiEh School

0rest 2002: A literary magazine published by the students of Oak Park and River Forest High School since 189S.

Editorial Staff: Jamiel Cornelio Marisa Geo$he$an Enin Graves

Lisa Locascio Ni$el Shields

Katherine Parker MeS Pnossnitz Abby Van Deusen Dave Walwank

Emily White Anne Wootton

Adyisors: Erin Lyons Richard Zabransky

ed ito

rs' [ette r

This year we have worked hard to reinvent Crest. ln past years our litenany maf,azine has come fan, but aside from last year's Spoken Wond CD has remained on the same dusty shelf of wor"ds. We ane breakinS out. Crest as you have known it is no more. You

misht notice the more stylized pages, the careful desi$n or the aesthetically penfect cover. What is most important here is the diversity of content. We, as editors of this magazine, had one main toal:to pr"operly represent the best of 0ak Park and Riven Forest HiSh School's writing by young people. ln order to accomplish this we had to completely change the way we thought about Crest.

With the help of our lovely faculty advisors Erin Lyons and Richard Zabransky, we decided to judge all of the submissions anonymously. This meant a gneat deal of xenoxing and re-xeroxing works with little pieces of paper" taped oven the authors' names. The pieces were then grouped by form--prose on poetry--and collected into bi$, forebodin$ packets. Somehow amidstthe chaos of oun evenyday lives we manafed to read and nate each compositron. This was followed by week upon week of editorial review. lr/any of us had become so attached to our favorite pieces that we fought long and hard for thein acceptance. A few submissions met with such intense debate we worried we wouldn't be speaking nicely to each othen the next day. But we eventually got thr0ugh the mountain of work and put t0gether a collection that we feel reflects our ori$inal aim.

We hope that when you read Crest this year, you notice the difference. The amount of time and love we've poured into this little journal is all for" you. We want Crest 2002to be the sort of thinB you show youn friends from other schools, the evidence to your parents that they should vote for future neferenda and the little book that you nead at ni$ht.

0f your own volition.

Crest 2002

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the chance ...And in allthis heat

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It is so bittersweet When you think about

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The things you miss.

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So

when it came,

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And with a grin,

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It was so bittersweet, even within

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l< Like tea and candy.

They don't go together.

So when I got on my feet

And walked home, A bird, and a gnome,

Both with a grin Together, whol ly bittensweet, But only half within

6

So

then I decided

To do somethin$

With a whole grin So when

it

came

I stood on a hill

And said I will.

And it did fulfill So then,

With a grin,

Bittersweet, but not within

As I exit my gated utopia, lwander across a B-U-M. 0f

allthe eyes on the cnowded street, mine meet his. Amidst a sea of plaster"ed smiles and deliberately starved bodies I saw him in living colon. But how could it be that we bneathe the same

air and speak the same tongue, yet no one will hear

his

cries? They ti{hten thein grips on the hands of the young, botfle-feedin! them that if they just look str"alsht ahead the bad man will fo away and they won,t

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have to waste their time and money or god for"bid spark a conversation. yet

thatthis man who breathes the same air and bleeds the same blood is human, and won't acknowledge they're of the same father until no 0ne

they won't see

Slances in their direction.

7

with weaktings and idiots t,

Vaga traced the intnicate pattern of pale, jagged scars from her elbow to her

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wr"ist.

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Bri(ht liSht fr"om passing cities filter"ed thnou$h the heavy $reen windows.

It covered the cold steel rails, the gum coated floor, and the cheap plastic seats with a seasick glow. As the train murmured to a stop, Va$a pulled her^self out from under her memories t0 stare blankly out the window. Thts had become a habit by n0w, a way of warnin$ incomin$ passengens not to talk to her. She knew from expenience that conversations with stran$ers at this time of ni$ht always led to competition over who had the most tra$ic story, and Vafa nearly always won. A wave of queasiness nushed over her as she watched the reflec-

tions of the cr"eatures boar"ding the train. "All weak," she thou$ht with disgust.

"They're only looking for a slow suicide by some stupid drug that they will allow to become str0nger than themselves." She pictured their deaths all too clearly, and shifted in her seat to avoid getting sick, The visions hit too close to home.

She tried to remember why she was riding at ni$ht, on maybe it was morninS by now. Either way, there was still empty blackness between towns She

8

thouf,ht about the Iast time she rode durinf the day and remembered why she would prefer to spend the nrght in the company of weaklinSs and idiots. lt was those horrible eyes. Every day-train was packed with pryinE, scrutinizing eyes People who node durinf, the day were synthetic, and afraid to tell thein stories.

lnstead they would criticize everythinf about her with their eyes.

She remembered an old w0man in a suit whose eyes criticized her lon$

blond hair for" flowinf, freely down her back, and her stomach for showinf from beneath a t-shirt that she had out$rown several years before. lr/ost peculiar were the black rimmed eyes of the woman who stared at her for half an hour

with complete contempt because Vaga had the coura$e t0 wear no makeup. She felt sorry for that w0man because she fisured she spent houns every m0rning putting on her mask in order to feel brave enou$h to face the world.

It seemed that the one thin$ nobody would dane criticize was Va$a's $uitar.

It seemed t0 give off a kind of feelin$ that tt had been loved. Va$a carried it with the sort of pride and protection a child is carried, and it was easy to see that this instrument was not to be shoved around or insulted. As the train betan to lurch and hiss toward the next platform Vaga tried to shift to a mone comfortable position. She leaned her" thin back aSainst the window and set her $uitar on the seat next to her so that she could rest her feet on it and keep it safe.

Vaga closed hen eyes and wished for sleep, but it was never easy to sleep where

you did not feel safe. She searched her memony for the last time she felt safe and happy. When she couldn't nemember anything, she be$an to think, instead, of her own strength. Vaga knew she was str0nger than any othen eanly m0rning

train riders.

She had the scars to prove it.

from an elderly man to his wife The

truth

is that I found you,

So many years ago.

Somewhere beneath the last whims of unconsciousness, you extended your hands out to my sleeping mind,

o o n o

x

you left your fingerprints somewhene on my brain.

And then I began to breathe you,

you engulfed me,

and I began searching but couldn't find my dream.

Now we stand staring at water, at opposite ends of a pond, under a blacktop cloud sky, now that s0meone hit the light switch on the sun.

I am staninE into you,

peeling rose petals from your iris, weeping heavily into you,

wishing you were still just a wish.

Cause I can't move without you,

can't brinf blood to my finSer tips.

Can't bend my legs to peel my body up,

can't

tet

my eyes to forget my last image.

Can't bring myself to forget love.

The

truth is when I found you we'd play the mystery,

we'd hide from each others'skeletons in each others arms, we didn't let the enemies hinder us fnom 0ur games,

nothint but time could bning us apart, for the cycles sometimes end,

just

so they can begin again in a mother's anms.

Now I stand staring at water,

like we did before, back when you had wings to spread, back when you had wor"lds to conquer.

I can't live those thinBs for you,

but

l'lltry real hard, to win those prizes for you,

before I lay in my yard.

StarinS up at my firefly €lowing home, back into the blacktop sky,

where I know you ar"e waitinS for me.

Now I stand staring at water,

like we did before.

I

at opposite ends of a pond, I am you born and y0u are gold memory.

And the

truth

is that I found you,

so many years ago.

Befone you turned to ashes dancing on the waten, I can't follow you there, so I wish you wouldn't go

10

dinner and a mummy He had been dead for" ten years before his funeral. When I

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first arrived tn his

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home eanly this summer, he had alneady been dead for nine years and eleven months, yet he still had a place at dinner and everyone, myself included,

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o

addressed him as if he were alive. I sat down with his widow and shaned hen homemade soup, careful not to slurp it all up in respect to those who passed

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away. I recorded the surroundings ofthe hut. Across from me was a corpse

with a bowl of still soup. I kept my back straitht. I kept my back strai$ht and took a deep breath as if I was expecting an unpleasant smell. I anttcipated the smell of a dead person but it never came. The othen members of the Snoup thanked the squinty-eyed wrdow, but lwas stunned. ltried to act nonmal, but I

could not control my curiosity. My eyes were focused 0n a mummy.

As I left his home I felt like what I was about to see would not be any typical funeral. Ar"riving at the burial site, I witnessed hundreds gathened includin$ cameramen squeezing throuth gangs of tribal wanniors between thatched huts.

didn't know what to think. Standing at the back ofthe crowd I felt the beating of the dr"um, startinf the procession. I heard sobs from the family, as the mummy was escorted thn0ugh the crowd for his final walk of life on the shoulI

ders of his sons. Led by young women in the fanciest clothing performing but"ial dances, four full gnown waten buffalo were followed by four brown horses.

As

the mummy was carried in, families wrapped thein handmade textiles

around the body. The mummy was soon weighed down by fancy colorfultex-

tiles. Huddled around the burial altan, I seemed to be the only one surprised

by

the squeals of a dying animal.

I tur"ned around and saw the site of the animal sacrifice. Blood spnayed from the neck of one of the brown horses, while the other animals screamed in the face of death. The crowd was silent as four horses were offered to the mummy. Four" full grown water buffalo wene fightinS the reitns, which were

pulling them into a fatal poke. After the cenem0ny the gnound looked like

a

warz0ne, and wind and sobs broke the silence.

The mummy made his final

walkto the stone tomb, where the family

Sath-

ered to say final goodbyes to their" fallen leader. 0ne finaltextile was wnapped

around him. Evenyone bowed their head as chants wished the mummy away for an after life. The stone-face s0ns fight backtears as they lift their father into

the stone tomb. The lid was secured. The chants sif naled the r"etr"eat of the funeralto the feast, prepared by the famrly. I stood there and realized I would neven forget this. Alone, I walked back to the villafe, watchin$ people nealize

lsat down in the corner and looked around to find a place setting for the mummy. lt was nowhere to be found.

their

leaden had finally died.

11

12

ashtey carnaghi Gtass

photographic print

13

sean chambers Rooftop Silhouette photographic print

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Re$ret is a black clock that shines pnoperly if tragedy is your light

Findin' brothers dead in back alleys faster than we can add up last year's gross tallies Mom's at home prayin'that you come home but you not The next time they see you is in a shiny casket box

followin' the hearse thinkin' of your boy but it hurts hard concentration becomes a deep thirst.

It pains you

Hurting internally now they comin' for me Load'em up cock'em back let'em see.

This is the lrfe we live

ain't nothin'you can do to change that Those are our street tactics

11

while white cops still sayin' freeze black kids and still 6 of us still sleeping on a dirty mattness.

We are

fallen angels

the cats that'll try to bang you we don't shine.

We're in our prime.

The only ones we think about is our family and dogs

we get down... now, how that sound.

The tan€led web of thin blues lines crisscrossing their way tht'ouSh her arm

o, J

appear in the glaring sun to be casually shiftin$ positions, a stran$e dance of spiden webs elefantly laid upon the cur"ves on the limb.

The place wher"e she sits is hot, sticky and familiar to hen, the fickle shade

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a

of a willowJUst steps away. With her eyes she tnaces a crack running thnough the sidewalk: up, around, chasing bits of shadow and dartin$ out again. With one pudBy

finfer

she

twirls a single looping curl, mixin$ the sticky nemains of

chocolate with the scent of shampoo. ln the distance, she can hear" the baleful moan of a

freifht tnain as it

snakes its way to another va$ue destination. Nearer, the rustle of wind throuSh

the weeds and the limbs and leaves of the willow, every so often the call of a bird. Looking up at the sun throu$h the tr"ee, she sees the silhouetted branches wave nonchalantly in the lisht breeze, sinBinB a quiet son$ to anyone who cares to hear it. She does.

Anticipation and excitement swir"l anound in her as she waits fot" the sound of mother's car, putt-putt-putt-putt... Her mother leaves every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to do volunteen work. Ever since the woman netired she has been pickinS up odd volunteer.lobs on a part-time basis.

The girl is hopinB that her mother will brinS home a doll. She pictures the doll that Susie from next door Sot this year, when she tunned six. lt was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on: delicate hands, unblinkinf eyes, a tiny person that would sit on your bed and wait for you all day, porcelain skin

f lowing in stripes where the sun hits her" face between strips of Venetian blind.

Her attention shifts and she picks up a fallen stick that had been resting on its side and begins t0 dig turrets in the soil, curving and roundtn$ them.lust so. ln the mid-afternoon heat, perspiration fonms on her fonehead, rolls down

her cheek and falls from hen chin, catchin$ the sun in one blinding second before hitting the cement. Her mouth is now tiEhtly pressed as she focuses 0n

controlling her hand, making sure that every line and curve is in onder.

She is almost done when her hand overwhelms the stick and it breaks

in

the middle.

A

faint putt-putting is gnowrng louder from the east. She looks up and

makes a garbled noise of deltBht as her mother pulls into the dnive and emerges, her" white hair mostly pulled back in a frenzied bun, the wrinkles at

her eyes and the c0rners of her" mouth creating blue shadows that stretch acnoss her face. The woman is tir"ed and fnail in the blinding light, but her entire being softens when she sees her dau$hter beamin$ down at hen and pointing pr"oudly at the $round by her feet.

15

girl has written

hen name in the dirt, kamikaze letters pointin€ in all directions in the brown-black soil that rests on the fnont lawn. The old woman smiles and neaches up to wipe a smudge of dint off her daughten's cheek. ln a The

box under her arm, wrapped canefully in gold foil, is a tiny person with delicate hands and soft porcelain skin, staring unblinkingly, watching, waitin! to be loved.

"[/y, how the years 6o by," the old woman sighs.

,,Happy

darling." And she kisses her daughten softly on the cheek.

16

J5th bir"thday, my

Somewhere there's a

(irl,

She thinks of things like gtass.

And enters into thoughts uncalled, Like a river cut a path.

Kaleidoscopic.

f'!

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= J rEl

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o

Catastroph ic.

Mind behind sweet eyes, Smoky words and salty tears, And softly spoken lies.

Thene

they are

For anyone, for one they step Aside.

Gently like the cunve of a river, And sharp Like the thoughts in her head.

Some children beg to watch While old hands know to go.

Some child thinks to play

Until,

0ld hands he knows.

So somewhere there's this Sirl, you say?

And she thinks ofthings like glass.

I met a ginl like that one time, And then she drifted past.

17

crowd surfing c

Alice wandered slowly down the steps into the semi-dankness of the subway

cn

tenminal 0nly a few people stood on the platform, clutchinS their bulfin$ shopprng bags and waitinS dumbly for the next train to arrive and carry them back to the safety of the subur"bs She leaned a$ainst the grimy tile wall next to the exit, peppered with amateur Sraffiti and briSht white ftn$erprints in the $reasy dirt. A low rattlinS sound far down the tunnel warned of an oncominf train. As the noise fr"ew louder, light shone out from the abyss, approachin$ until Alice could see the silhouettes of the people throu$h the front window. The aluminum Juggernaut clattered to a rusty halt and the doors slid open. The crowd surged onto the platform, swarming for the stairs like hun(ry cattle. Alice smiled. She en.loyed rush hour in the city. ln this crowd, everyone was anonymous; there were n0 people, only faceless bodies all vyin$ to be first to arrive

o, lE (I,

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at their destinations.

A man in a neat pinstnipe suit pushed past Alice, small squintin$ eyes

focused on the sunliSht streaming welcomin$ly down the stairs fnom the street above. He didn't notice hen foot in his path until he stumbled awkwandly and was sent flying into a harried-looking y0ung w0man with a portfolio under one 18

arm. The woman shot him an angry glance as he disappeared into the mass of people, wearing the shocked expression of someone whose train ofthou$ht has unexpectedly been rerouted. Soon they wene both lost, propelled inexonably onwand by the crowd.

Alice snatched a frayed newspaper from a nearby trenchcoat pocket. She unfolded it, angling the wrinkled paper towand the lifht to read the headline. lt was the sports section, three days old She rolled it back up and deposited it in the 0pen handbag of a middle-aged woman. The woman didn't even notice hen as she shouldered her way through to the stairs.

By now the main body of people had g0ne up t0 street level to continue

their exodus. Alice could hear them climbing onto the waiting bus, perfectly scheduled and synchronized. They came through here every day, the same pe0ple, followinf, the same routine. She settled back to wait fot" the next train.

spring love The black smoke rises from the pan, You smile and whisper that I

will make a good wife.

Scrambled eggs with ketchup and oven baked tortillas From the grocery You wince and eat the food all the same.

CL

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=

I don't mind you not liking my breakfast, But that's all I have. Please leave

soon-

Your fianc6e may wonder at The sudden sweetness of your smile.

Your belly's beer barnel's paradise-warmth in the cold night.

Your"

skin shines like moonlight and breath-the beat of my heart

I notice a little mole unden your ar"mpit and you try to peer with all your miSht. I laugh.

You shimmer among a million scattered dneams And the haze arrives as you hold me in youn arms.

19

20

john ctark Duomo ll photographic print

21

Stairwett photographic print

22

Parthenon photographic print

23

Ctock Towers photographic print

mentaI conf usion

!

CL

CL

/ scattered brain

Slow mental down for 50 cent flicks/ many not $oin$ to understand the primus violence/ that we brinf winter throuSh the sprinS/ we catapult the banker

through his beloved vault/ Take 1$ bills leave the fifties for the grime and Sritties/ hard times lead to swordic rhymes/ drinkin dirt to become of earthchild/ singin love for" the thrill of an estnogen geyser/ putting on mic shows for the public like the lr/iser'/ babies turn t0 50 age old carriers of rabies/ cats live the rap life/ J-5 live for equality/ suitcases filled with death and knowled$ed calvany/ 54th regiment run throu$h me/ bullets and blood saddles me/ heroin needles seen by eyes/ sold by cookie monsters parachutinf passed by pocket flow/

kids start throwin'their own cubix linked pee-wee wallet $rabbin'show/ hanE me from my penis and extend my hand of pleasure/ giving people what they want on mic's the perplexed pleaser/ to wack mc's leave the stage with mummified tongues in wraps of a seizure/ premeditate on bi$ words/ keep'em only for essays/ suck at scantrons so I close my eyes and stant $uessin$ in mode of the shine of Norther"n liBhts/ compilations of P. Diddy and Fred Durst still aren't going to stop U.S. air str"ikes/ bombs gifting retardation and rebirthing children with the mentality to be number one and always the

test play/ to

21

shar"e

winner/ Conman competition concluding the contest of who's the weakest sinner/ one day a week I live these mental confusions/ l've had two lobotomies and

still can

see throuBh illmatic illusions.

loving exclusively So what

if I do love her? What's that? I don't think it is a sin to love somebody.

I

neally don't care what she does. lknow she loves me. You can not believe everything you hear in the street. I have invested too much time in this love

GI

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affair to just throw it away. No, everything ain't peachy but at least we got someth ing.

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Kim been cominf home late aften work, going out on the weekends, stuff she didn't used to do. lt makes me wonder, maybe I deserve to be treated the way I used t0 treat hen. But we are past that. She forgave and forgot. I hope she did. But I can't deny, I am getting tir.ed of all my boys telling, "yo, I heard

your ginl messing with him..." l'm sick of that. ljust want her to be r"eal with me. I know it is hand for her but l'm not like that anymore. l'm for" r"eal this time. lf she is gone 0n games then she can lust let me know. Cause we ain't flot to go no further.

So now it is Friday niSht. I want to d0 s0mething nomantic for my w0man.

So I went out got some rose petals, some I/oet, you know all that good stuff.

I

even got the motion lotion out. So I called Kim at wor"k and

told her.

She said

she got off at six and she would be home by seven. I had set a trail from the fnont door to the bathroom of nose petals, Then I put rose petals in the bath

25

water. lknew she was g0n'love it. lfilled the bathr"oom with scented candles. prepared her favorite meal: steak and baked potatoes. I couldn't wait for hen to get home.7:30, no Kim. So lcalled her cell phone, she must have had it off.

8:15, no Kim. At l0:00 I went to bed. I couldn't believe she did that to me. Don't nobody deserve that. I kind of felt like doing some "Waiting to Exhale" type stuff I

and burn up all her clothes, But l'm better than that. She stupid.

Why is

it

who is crawling in bed next to me? I didn't move. I felt like turning around and pushinf her" ass out the bed. Did she think I was stupid? l'm tryinS not to believe she cheating on me. lt is gon' be some serious 1:00 a.m. and

complications if she is. Yeah, it is okay for me to do it; two wrongs don't make a right I know her momma taught her that I felt her touch me. I still didn't move. She said my name. lacted like ldidn't hear her. She should know I know the noutine by now as much as I did It is Saturday morning now. Kim introduced me to some food and extra lovinS. When lwoke up

lforgot about what happened the night before I didn't

care. lwas living for"the moment. And it was good She was doing everything she should. This monning's extra loving was good. We laid there sex-funky, happy as we want to be, Kim and me. Kim was loving me exclusively.

So I Sot out the bed and put my clothes

on To tr"y to make things better, went to the market. I was gon' make me and my w0man some breakfast. So

I

went to the store in hopes of coming back for s0me more of this morning's

I

good and extra loving. At the market people were pushing and shovin' trying t0 be the next in line but the time was mine. As I got to the counter, I noticed the cashien: he must have been new. He looks at me and I looked at him. Was this some kind of men's intuition or somethinS? Some type of insecunity? No, cuz Kim is at home happy loving me exclusively. So I shook my head. "What's up?"

I

said.

"What's up," he replied. He started to ring me. "0ranf,e juice, $2.29, straw-

berries $1.92." He sniffed.

"Croissants $4.85, butta 89 cents, milk $5.19." He sniffed and sniffed.

"Whipped cream $1.00, e69s $2.47." He sniffed and sniffed and sniffed. Then replied, "Kim right?"

"Right."

"Kim! Kim, l'm back!" I didn't hear anythin$ in the house. She must have been still asleep. I went to the bedroom, no Kim. I looked in the bathroom, no Kim. She was gone. I knew it, I felt it. There was a note on the dining room

table. lt read: 26

Robert, l'm gone. lt is over now. I found something better.

|m sorcy, but I have

got to move on. lt was fun while it lasted. I will alwoys love you.

Love Always,

Kim

winter is a state of mind The television glazes a mist over my eyes

o

Feet stuck to the floor,

Ul Ul.

Arms pinned against the seat,

(D

Paralyzed, I cannot stand,

a

f.

-o

Cannot awaken from this death-like trance

a =.

rEt

o a

Heart thumping against my chest, Thoughts creepinS to the edge of my

mind-

Staggering, tripping, shuffling on the ocean ftoor

0f

sanity-

My soul cries out, I can't hear its echo

Ricocheting on the opposite

wall-

Cnashing painting to the floor,

Bright colors of summen long (Winter is a state of mind)

-it T.V.

past-

bnings warm tears to my frozen eyes. noaring an imaSinary channel,

Mimicking blizzard on the scneenThene's snowstorm outside my apartment,

Tickling feet of injured in hospital across the way, Leaving bodies to watch twirlinB snow Gather in the streets.

Snowing inside my head

(winter is a state of mind) banks lining inside of cranium ach ing

burning forming a barrien where there should not..

Be...

0ne...

Clawing at the sides of my head

Hair pulled, skin bruised; scratched. lcy winds tear at my vulnerability

2t

I let myself freeze over incessantly each time

lfallStarve my bnain of sleep to make snow stop, tr/ake it go away.

I can't be myself when l'm frozen to my cone!

Shaking hands, quiverinE lips Blue, so cold So blue, so cold

(winter is a state of mind) killing me so lonely in the place ashen walls and bane floors only hide what truly lies hene

waitin€ for" something, someone to intnude Someone, something to sink their feet into the emotion-slush (winter is a state of mind) 28 holds me here can't escape No doors to break through No windows

to shatter

Nothing but pitch black beyond overtunned covers Keeping me from seeking...help.

will see me hene(winten is a state of mind)

No one

every year this happens

when leaves bnown and crumple my heant curls inside itself

dried around the edfes

chills my thoughts so I can't (and winter" will always be a state of mind)

trampled into the ground my heart cannot lift itself fnom earth

fall deeper into gr"oundI remember past winters

Still raw in my mind Battle scans still etched into body

Nothin[ I can

do

Not much I will do To keep it from happening again.

I remember the feeling when I awoke in spring Someone touched me, hot and alive I soaked in

their energy, my blood thawed,

my voice

Cleared like the matter between my ears. (spninS is sweet excitation) comatose mindset

diminishing-

seeing beautiful wor"ld as smooth

glass-

fantastic survival I did not fail!

I am the fittest!

But will spring come next year?

29 Will someone find me in that incnedible prison? lf they do, will they save me?

Will I emerge

0r stay locked inside winter pride of my mind?

Don't know Don't know Don't know...

Staring at white walls, eyes glazinS over ls winter coming?

Please, oh god, set fire

to my heart

won't make it out this time (winter is in my mind)

I

no teans left to warm me

quick, touch me, help me

falling again reaching out this time I hope tight to your hand, ice between our fingers You're comin$ with me

(winter's taking you too?)

NoN0!

I let you 90...

As I

the storm rages behind this mask

watch you fade into that old

painting-

Thinninf palpitations of heart reflect my thoughts.

Thinning palpitations of heart reflect my thou$hts.

Will I make it out this time?

Stare at clock, pnay for seasons to chanBe (winter is my state of mind)

30

31

I\i,-

\/ \

/ \.

\ bitl.y jackson

Judy Gartand charcoaLdrawing

32

jacob hartz lmpression of a Sunset penciLdrawing

the van The nain seemed to float pre-contact to the surface. Tiny drops accumulate to

E

large spheres and noll of the lined tint on the window of the purple minivan. lt is her life and it's har"d; it's hard watchinf a tortured soul attempt daily rou-

at =.

tine. lt's hard watchinS the robotic walk of a man bound by stirrups. lt's hard havingto help your gnown son piss, shit, and eat. Butthe load can only be as strong as the one it's resting upon.

=.

OJ

x xo

Automatic Door Caution: 0ut comes he; red lightning with a loystick that decides his immediate path of travel. lt's one of those really expensive chairs with cruise control; a fine piece of Amenican machineny, made by a true craftsman, that weans ripped blue jeans, and sports flannel shirts. And has a biS mustache, with blue eyes. And has a wife named lr/illie, with thnee childnen. relishes inside the simple things in life, such as dofs and naked w0men.

He

After several unsuccessful attempts, Litile Boy Bound is in the passenfen seat, void of his chair. He's now focused his energy; a lighter in hand, he tries

to

make them wonk. He slips

it in between two decrepit fingers attached as

his

riSht hand. With his left hand he forces uneventful ignition. Him;a genuine pr"oduct of evolution gone awry. lnside this minivan is muggy, fotsy; the air is thick and white. 0n the floor" amongst pieces of broken toy, and stnay Fnench fries; is the kind of plum col-

ored carpeting we've c0me to expect from a mid-nineties minivan. Forward in the front passenger seat mediocre attempts are polished below par.

"Light foddamnit, just once." Frustratron has taken it's toll, and in one final flick the driver side door is swung open. His spent eyes meet his mother's spent eyes, and no words are necessany. li/other wonks hard and the calluses hur"t from time to time, lifting too many lawn gnomes, I suppose. 0ne time she tried imposinf a bowling alley on her son. He didn't want to go, he r.esisted, and he wanted to drift; faded as he watches his movies. So in the end; submission forged friendship.

0utside of his mutant nature, underneath the stirrups, in back of his lazy eyes; rests a brarn that is perfectly capable of processing thought. A mone than worthy specimen cased in dank shell, a gelatin shell. which brings a question to my head: what could be passinI through his head as his own mother wipes his ass for him?

The minivan takes off into the distant

fray forward that lay ahead

33

THE HOTUECON/ING

Home is cracked, with no feeling. The walls all painted in yellow; lventure forth

to chips summing themselves.

The yellow on these walls could easily be mistak-

en for thick nicotine Elaze.

THE KITCHEN

table rests center for no neason at all. Caked; resting outside the head fault, hanging by way of a black wire, is a crooked frame with mack in flass.

A sole

Underneath a shatter"ed front rests a pnint; Home Sweeter Home.

The kitchen was a place whene many things came to truthful conclusion There was this one time mother was fonced to bid farewell in the dinection of

a

material lie; her wedding rinS found a new home amongst raw sewage.

It was a soiled canvas, a place that was oddly frequented. Enasure; for no one wants to see cleanly. lt was in the kitchen thr0ugh a vent that he once

heard hrs parents detest his personal skeletal stnuctune. "l mean, people stare at him for Christ's sake." lr/othen dtdn't even know "What do ya want me to say? Don't take him in public any more if it bothers

31

you. Just stay inside all day and watch television." Father didn't talk much more

after that ni6ht It was in the kitchen that everything came in clean, fnom the stains on the vinyl floor, to the splintered truths spoken oven the phone; no lies.

When they came home, they passed right through the kitchen. I/other

wheeled her"

bif

mistake to his bedroom. She said she wanted him to have a lit-

tle time to himself Her motives were almost pure in an antificial cherry flavored candy kind of way To him th0ugh, plastic clothing was t00 transparent...

THE BEDROO[/

for him to sulk in his inadequacies 0r to just look out the window. A vision had. Thr"ough plated glass and across the street; a play$round full of scr"eaminS children; it was just God's way of teasing him. Atean was unneces-

A place

sary because it was impossible, besides he's far too stron$ for that. A main attraction to be seen only bythe eyes of the blind A niche found inside shiny depression; his morbid sunnise. ln this exact

r00m-a

cnucifix above the bed and seventeen years of

necently unlocked aggression below a pillow, pieces of broken toy evenywhere, and a malfunctioning light hene..

.

fixture-si$ht was obtained only by way of candle-in

ln this exact room, at her wits end, just as the sonrow was beginning to drain, lr/other summoned a prostitute.

The raps grew louder, and a burn surfaced. Skinny, skinny like you would n't believe; obviously supportinS some sont of ravaged mind. She attempted beauty through material flesh, but failed throuSh her" hideous ne0-nature.

h/other led the prostitute down a dark and crooked hallway; last door on

the left "Now when you g0 in thene be considerate not to stare, he's shy."

"Yeah,

sure

Whatever" you say lady. lt's fifty dollars for a half-hour, cash.

You can pay me now."

Mother paid, and the deal was done.0utside ofthe botfle, a prostitute bnoke inventoried threshold and was neanly dnawn away. But hey, fifty bills is

fifty bills.

.

.

THE DINING ROOIil

Dinner is carnied out through tired bodily strain. lt's a sight to say the least; and tonight rs no exception; [/ashed potatoes and pot roast. He likes to tr"y and carry, he wants to implode on his own terms, void of resiless regimen. Now is practice, and the team is a far cry.

A mess of food finds it's home on his blue Formula One Racecar shirt, and

only a small token to be a bloody excrete.

lr/other's mind snapped long aSo, whacked emotion floats as a buoy, and the positive has capped to a jelly consistency. lr/other can't take this scene much lonSer, and I get the feeling she's about t0 take to the wind. The psych-

ward of some God forsaken hospital will be her new home. Babblrng on and on in here; home sweeten home: about some mippled mutant suffering in a ceiling infested room. "lt was his parents. He suffered for his panents, their unspeakable indecencies. It was unjust. A candle to the flame. lr/elted wax!"

Father is physically present, but in his head he's assumed the role of bottled window cleanen; blue, poisonous ammonia. The only thinE that keeps him on the function is his genuine addiction to caffeine. He brings the cup

to

his

lips and leaves emotion out of it... naturally. A cup full of untainted nastiness; he likes his coffee black, he likes his soul black.

It goes on like this for some time; lr/other cries, Father sips...

THE BASEIilENT

A place where destiny shifts face, and dreams find solid feometry while sleeping amongst boxes filled with nostalf ic shadows, and Christmas deconation

35

that haven't been used in years. The stratefically placed suppont beams are lazy. Boxes of flood dama$ed photos, and pre-desifnated aspirations that never had a chance-take flifht. The wooden stairs leadinS down are warped and painted to a chipped blue. He never had to put out what he took in, and for that l'm sure he'll be rewarded as a pawn.

Greased wheels and wet brains, mindset. A fine piece of American machineny;

35

take flight...

It was cold today. Autumn was setting in and this was the finst real cold day.

I

was in denial. lwone shorts with my coat and pretended thatthe cold didn't bother me. I don't know what ltried to pr"ove by that. I always end up getting sick from doint stupid crap like that. lwalked to school like I normally do, cut-

ting diagonally across busy stneets and walking down those familiar alleys that were n0w bled dry When I got there, I walked into the building, walked immediately to my place, sat down and waited for evenybody else to come.

I never did my homework before school. I can't. lf I get myself involved in homework, lwon't see evenybody pass me by. The janitors and maintenance

0.,

o

x a = n = o -t

men come along at odd intervals startinf atthe time I arnrve. Aboutten minutes afier I arrive, the early people start coming in. Some just come in and go off to their clubs and others sit down in thein own spots and pull out their

unfinished homework. From that time on, there is a steady acceleration in the student traffic. I watch my friends walking t0gethen to an unknown destination,

talking about last niSht. I see couples, hand in hand, in the halls.

The couples are the best to watch. There are so many emotions that arise from beinS with someone with which one has a deeper connection to. Call me a romantic sap, but I love watchinS a couple whispering sweet nothings to each other. Even though I usually can't read their lips, their expressions are

priceless. When they smile, I can feelthein joy and it makes me smile.

People are so intricate. ln everythinf they do, no matten how simple mind-

ed or bright the person may be, they have their own little thinfs that they do that make them diffenent. Even the people who want so desperatelyto fit in,

they dress and act like everybody around them. They have their own little nuances that make them different. I watch them, all of them. They walk by me, some ignoring me like they're too good forthe kid with the weird pants sitting

in his own little spot. Some look at me with an expnessionless face, gazing at

everythinf around them with the same apathy. Everybody acts different though.

Everybody. I especially noticed her. Her arrival every morning at 7:55, give on

take five minutes, always made me gaze in her direction.

She didn't look like a supermodel. She

wasn'ttall and thin with lonf

straifht hair and a smile to seduce. She had a smile, a wonderful smile, but it wasn't t0 seduce. lt was hand cr"afted by God himself to bning joy to those who saw. She was the most beautiful Sirl I had ever seen. The finst day ofthe second week of school, when this spot became my spot, I saw her stroll down the hallway to her locken. I remember that day, she was wearing a greenish pair of pants with a solid black belt, and an old blue t-shirt, probably from the Salvation Army. She dnopped off some of her books, picked up another one, and then sat down for a bit.

37

ljust sat and watched her. I couldn't help it. She had captured me. I don't think she noticed me. Why would she notice me? l'm just an odd little freshman sitting in an odd inlet of the hallway. I noticed her though. I have talked to her a few times srnce then. lt took a few days of tor"tured inner conflict t0 go up to

her and say hello. I didn't know what she thought about me. She's the only one can't read almost perfectly. She's a mystery.

I

lfound out her name: Harmony Dunne. lchecked in the school director"y. lived She about four blocks away from mo She told me she moved her"e two summers a8o, riEht befone she started high school. She was a year older than me, but it didn't bothen me. The more Italked to her, and the more I saw her,

the more I liked her. She's one of the coolest people l've met. I tot the feeling by the way that she talked, dressed, and carried her"selfthat she was a

just

really interesti ng person.

I had never asked somebody out before, ever. I didn't know how to go about it. lknew some people who had Sir"lfriends and boyfr"iends and they had all asked or been asked, and it had worked out. I have always wanted t0 ask girls

38

out in romantic or memorable ways.

Today was gonna be my day. I had nothinS planned that was romantic or

memorable. lwas scared out of my mind. All I knew was that I wanted to ask

her out. I had been ponder"inS askinI her out for a while. This morninf she came in earlier than normal and was lookinf ever s0 beautiful She wore a pair of black pants and an0ther Salvation Army bargain shirt. I knew it was mytime

to shine. I knew that if I waited too long her fniends would come back and talk to hen, so I wouldn't be able to I knew that if I didn't Eo riflht then and there, there was a larSe possibility that I would never summ0n up the courage to do it ever afain. I stood up from my spot, slung my backpack on, and walked ovento her. lwas already sweating. lcould feel the small globules forming all over my body and dripping down, but I went anyway.

"Hey Harmony?"

"What's up Dave? How're you doing?"

"l'm doinf okay, I was just chillin' over there and thinking, s0 Ith0ught l'd come over hene and say'hi."'

"Well hey " There was a short pause. lt felt like forever. I didn't know what was doing at all. I had to say something.

"Hey Harmony. I gotta ask you a question."

"What?"

"l was wondering if you, um, mrght want to go out sometime."

"0h " "What?"

I

"l thought you knew."

"What?"

"l have a boyfriend already. l'm really sorry. I thought you just wanted to be friends. l'm really somy."

"0h. lt's okay. No bif deal. Forget I even asked you." "l'm sonry."

"That's 0K. I gotta go though, so, l'll see you later."

"Bye." I turned, walked away, and started lookin! fon a new spot. I needed a good spot where enouSh people would come by, but not too many. I needed a spot where lwouldn't be distracted fnom the sights of the regular people

around me.

3'

'!ro1r^-o \ G.r.,

t

ri

,i

10

i

I

t I t

]; .,

.:

a a

: t

t I

I f.

t

ben kiet PersonaL GoaL

penciI drawing

fuego sin un siuno tu puedes darme

You can give me

una hora sin tu voz

o

an hour without your voice

J o -t

y no

es

justo

and it isn't fair

pero te amo

But I love you

y nunca voy a lloror y no voy a ver

and l'm never going to cry and l'm not going to see

eres mis dedos y estoy cansada, amor quiero perder

You are my fingers

si te olvidas como la luz me beso

lf you forget how the light kisses me

has olvidado

you have forgotten [that]

toda su sangre

all of your blood

cruzo en las esterellas

crosses in the stars and returns to me

y vuelve a mi

) -o

o 3 o

and l'm tired, love I

want to lose

61

tovety o c o

I love you,

o

You know I really do.

o,

We

U

all really

do.

L

lE

L !l

.E

I have a weakness for walking Hand in hand With you, though you Never say much.

I wor"ship

your

Skin so Smooth So supple

And I look down At your beautiful hand

12

At your beautiful wrist

And I see Quiet Pin k Sca rs.

She's flyin$ acnoss youn opened minds,

such a supensonic disco ball.

Drives a Honda, fine dust coats the silver disks. Her tunes.

This chick is wheezing and sneezing,

better watch out or she'll crash into the ground.

o

o o CL o -t

o N

0,

Candy flipper, Sunday school tripper.

= o

Chava man can see the future,

? o,

you can see her in your dreams, gonna blow henself out.

I

o -t

o CL o

Soon she'll taste her last tune. Lights out.

Why does it seem that her life is all but a joke?

She wastes away, all

for

hen coke.

First words out of the superstar"'s mouth, what's to smoke?

Wait and see one day she'll be ther"e, upon the concrete.

What a mess. All bunned out.

That life of her past.

Silently crashes, face meets pavement.

Blue and ned waves flood in.

swarm over that poor candy flipper's corpse.

Drama served up in her hip-hugger style.

Blue jean lady, blue faced, somebody's baby.

The wind blows from her body.

13

t. ;./

11 rrJ. r$.:

".,,

adrian lecesne penciIdrawing

,r,*

f, 65

f.'--=.,, h gi,. .1 ,, \.

tl.

penciIdrawing

16

=t

jeremiah reitty Sometimes I dRoot pen & ink drawing

breakfast sauce ldon't brag ldon't boast

=.

3

I like hot butter on my breakfast toast

o)

3

oo(D

llike bacon llike biscuits

=

Would you like some tasty triscuits?

lt

pigs aren't pork chops s o

Grey Cold Walls, Grey Cold Stone Walls

E

It's dark the air is thick

Ul

'f

This is the place,

U

They come in the door

E

And leave in a

freitht car

Cows

BiS Brown Cows ln the door" and out on a train

This is not my life, This is the workinS man's life Chicago wasn't built on a foundation Chica$o was built on Pigs Pigs,

18

Fat Smelly Pigs.

A push A

ofthe button they come

swing of the blade they go out

You don't eat pigs, You eat Pork Chops

in.

yesterday i thought it was the day before Itell this woman

3

o

something close to my heart and it gets hen down heaning me and that causes me to squint, seeing

the tnuth of her reaction.

-l'm

never alone anymore,

my empty palm

c0nveys.

go

out -l go to work come home

to my famlly ta lking

69

and I go to bed to do it befone I don't want to

do it

all over. yestenday I thought

it was the day before. day befone that didn't know

The

I

what month it was

if it's warm it's June coloned leaves mean October fon sure snow comes in December

around here or January, and no more snow could mean opening day at Wrigley Field

or even later another yean and olden nePhews and for"gotten in-law's names

the parties I miss celebr"atinS family calendars

I never owned

stenciled incomprehensible

their

days

and never mine a

lon e.

mine is my sign is

the crab, with a twist:

(ofthe knife, as she says, man are you ever) 50

moving backward in time

molting again

to

live

agai n,

movin$ sideways fnom memories (not that I care fon them) nemoved

retreat

i

n

$

into its shell feedinB on its shell called solitude

that it may live.

when lwas thr"ee I did not know what knowledge was. I could not spell encyclopediaand did not know what 0ne was. I had not been enlightened to the fact that there ane other places besides whene I was living at the time. This

E

changed at ate five when I started to r"ead. I started on children's books and started to become more knowledfeable. I wanted to be the smartest person on

c

earth. when I found out what an encyclopedia was, I knew that I would have to read it. I started at the fir"st page and sounded out words that I did not know and eventually got fed up with my incompetence and quit. ltried asain at afe nine with similar results. Then at age thirteen I star"ted and did not stop until

0,

r) =.

x 3

.1 0)

J

I

was seventeen. I frnished on July 17, 1986. I sat in my noom staring at the wall trying to contemplate what I had done. I had r"ead the entire encyclopedia and

strangely, I did not feel smarter. lwas hailed as a fenius in school and was offered many opportunities, which lturned down because I believed they were wrong. Just because I had read the encyclopedia did not mean that I was automatically a genius. I was not smart, ljust knew a lot. I knew nothing of life and of common sense; I could just rattle off a set of useless facts that I did not care about in the slishtest. tr/y life was empty until ltook up this lifestyle.

At age eighteen I decided that I would not be govenned by the laws of comm0n sense anymone. I did the "stupidest" thing I could have done. I decided not

t0 go t0 college, but to inundate myself in city life, without help from anybody.

I moved onto the streets in september, I think, I did not pay attention to dates and times as much as I used to. I sat there in a ratty blanket on a candboand box and thousht of the encyclopedia. After five years contemplating it I can't

remember a single specific thinf out of it. I wasted my life attempting to become the smartest person on eanth and when I had become the smartest person that I had even met, I felt stupider" then where I began. I had wasted space in my brain with things that lcould not use anywhere. when lfifured

this out I came damn close to going completely insane. I decided instead to do something and work my way up from there and so hene I sit, the cacophony of useless automotive noise tormenting me day and nifht. I have been on the streets for l5 months. I learn new thinfs every day. lf I had not spent so much time in a book, then I would have Iearned these thinfs before, but then lwould not be who I am today.

I have a few friends but fewer enemies. No one knows me or anything about me. I make money doinf petty tricks on people. Any question they ask me pertaining to history, I can answer and I invite them to check up on me. I do these things outside a library. I gain knowledge the only true way 0ne can:

from others. Passing comments and sreetinfs contain a wealth of knowledfe, if pr"openly analyzed and nelated to c0mmon ventures. I see the interactions of

51

people 0n the street and learn from them how to become the perfect person. have the perfect mind, now I need the perfect personality. Normally, lwould be I

penformin€ on the street today but I have something better in mind. lt comes to me asthe sun nises and reflects offthe crystalline sides ofthe concrete mon-

strosities that I take psychological refuBe in; I am sick ofthis. I decide that know enough to return where I came from and I tet on the train and make my way home. I need to see my family and former friends fain The time that spent with them was good, and now that I know what I need to, I feel I have to neturn to them to apologize. I was their sole hope; the apple of my parents' eye I

I

and the fonmer fniend of many and it was time to rekindle my relationships with human beings. Now that I have lear"ned from them, I can netunn to them and embrace them. I get off the train and walkto my house in the sunli$ht

I

walk up to the door and ring the bell. A face that I had not known before comes to the door and asks if he can help me. I responded to him: "No, you and yout" kind have helped me more than y0u can comprehend.

Now it is my turn to help you." He looks at me with a quizzical expression on his face and decides to fetch my mother and father They come to the doon and 52

break into tears. lwas back and I had br"ought my knowled$e and newfound experience with me. This would be helpfulto them. They could become more like me, they need to become more like me. I am better than them and perfection is the goal 0f humanity. I was vocal about this and I was shunned once again and decided that I still needed more knowled$e, this time on the art of lyin8. I need to make them believe that they did not need my help and tnick them into taking it without their consent, but allthe time helping them more then they can know. I listened to music and held mental symposiums with the ingenious c0mposers that put feelinSs into music so vividly that the music can evoke these feelings in the listener. I manvel at this remarkable phenomenon

for some days and came to a conclusion All feniuses before me had expressed their $enius throufh some medium. il/ozart even today. I ponder"ed over this

had his music, Einstein his physics. Bobby Fisher had his chess pieces and have my lies. I can lie to people and convince them to do thin$s for me. I evenI

tually decide to put these theories into practice and attempt it on my next-door neiShbor, but he will not accept. He claims he doesn't know me anymore. This

is a heavy blow to my mind.

lwill not be accepted

and thus

lwill not have the

chance to implant my

genius intotheir heads l can lieto a certain extent but ifthe listener nefuses to acknowledge my existence and ideas, they do not deserve to know the key to mental happiness. I have lear"ned this, not from readin$ the encyclopedia, but listening to people and masterin$ human interaction to a point where I have

become too normal and

lwill not be paid attentron to

because I am only saying

normalthings. They will n0t pay attention to me and will never learn fnom my genius, for they do not deserve it. I willtake it with me. Now as I stand with 500 feet below me and look down and work out that it will take me 7.964 seconds for me to hit the pavement and splatter all oven a crowd of soon-to-be

hornified onlookers shouting things t0 the effect of "Don't jump.,,They don,t know whatthey have lost. lam halfway down and knowthat lonly have a litile while before my ideas are safe. The !r"ound is comins closer at a remankable rate, soon to take all of mankind's hope for perfection with it. I am the key and they have changed their lock. Before they wanted to hean me and now they do not want to, when I actually have something to say. lt's their fault, for they br"ought this on themselves. closer comes the ground and I can see the faces surnounding my landing zone. Soon all will be made Sood and those who refused mental salvation fnom previously accepted false ideas will get what they deserve: nothing. Closen comes the ground and I am happy.

Punishment delivered.

53

big bag o'change E' .9

c xo) (I,

change. I put nearly all the chan$e I f,et into it, you know, so I have some spare change for" parkin$ metens or" vendinf, machines and stuff I have this big bag

'o'

like that. Just a simple ziplock bag, with the red and blue stnipes so its turns

purple when its sealed. That's how I could always tell tt was closed all the way.

Itrusted those stripes like they were my best friends. I $uess it was the commercials, the way they made it look like if those stripes were purple, they would neven let me down. I fuess in a way that's stilltrue.

Anyway, a month or so back, me and my friends wentto the Aragon to catch a Cake concert. lt was in a kinda shady net$hborhood. lwas wearin$ my Grandpa's old leather coat. lt had been around for a lonS time. tr/y Grandpa had wonn it until he gave it t0 my Dad, who just $ave it to me last year. lt was long and black, but in seemingly g00d condition. I had my ba$ of chan$e in the pocket.

We found par"king just under a block away right on the street, and it only cost a quarter for a full hour of parking time. I had some loose coins in my pocket that I hadn't put into the bat yet, so I yanked some ofthose out and put them in the meter. We went along towards the Ara$on There was a lot of home-

51

less people askint for m0ney. Generally I like to be able to $ive somethinB to them. But I had to start cutting down a yean or so back because I started run-

ning out of money for myself. And one time, when I was, I dunno, about twelve,

I

was walkinS with some friends on 0ak Park Avenue by the tracks when a f,uy came up and asked if he could have a dollar on two. ltook the bills out of my

pocket and gave him two or three bucks. But then he started talking about how he saw some larger bills in there, and c'mon, I could spare to five him that twenty, As a shy twelve-yean-old just barely staring to see five feet tall, I was hesitant to do much in the way of ar$uinS with him. I eventually fave him ten, 0r" somethinS like that. Anyway, the point is that thouBh I like to be able to Sive out some money if a person needs it, l've become a little wary about it,

I

think

Anyway, back to the Aragon. So this $uy we're passing asks if we have any-

thinB we can spare. 0ne of the friends I was with had a bad expenience recently with a panhandler sort of rouShinf him up for thirty-two bucks, so our whole group was trying to just hurry past. I stopped, remembering the chan$e in my pocket that had not yet found a home in my ba8. I wouldn't dare brinf, out the baB itself, there's about twenty bucks worth of cash in there. 0ne look and l'd be up to my eans in people asking for" cash. But ltook what I had in my pocket

and €ave it to him, tellrng him it was the "last" of my chan$e.

But then somethin$ very strange happened. Somethin$ coincidental enou$h to almost make a person believe, fon a moment, that a higher force was involved. We all started walking away when lheard a metallic'clink.' I looked

anound and saw nothing, so we kept walking. But had I investigated further, mifht have noticed that I had dropped a coin. And in examininf,that, lalso

I

might have noticed that not only had a hole sprung in my pocket, but also in my big bag of change. But as the sound of silver fairies crashing into the pavement grew increasinsly louder, it didn't take me long to realize that, after iving the f man the "last" of my change, he had seen me turn, and suddenly see money

start pourin6i out of the back of my coat like metal rain from a black leather cloud.

55

o

I 6-

o

((

t -) oa

I I

o

I

I 56

o

brandon muench Ant Man pen and ink drawrng

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t)

o

GF

o

t:

)

/

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:.:-.-

r{.*'z

,'^"aL"

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> -E_

Bert & Ernie pen and ink drawing

57

the ctimb o

The sun rose that mornlng

l!

A perfect morninf: the sun's wanm caress,

o

E .;

The cool tickle

o

I stepped into the grapefruit dawn

E'

ofthe breeze on my cheek.

Stretched like a cat on the doorstep.

Donning my pack lset out up0n the f,entle, well-trodden path.

LeIs fr"esh, stride lonS and stnong My friends joined me at the trailhead and we jaunted Glided as a flock of chatterinE birds over trees, laufhten floatinf in the breeze

At midday, the sun's gnin relaxed And hid its face behind the veils of dishwater clouds The wind kicked up

Tickle to scratch, it chafed my cheek. lcy waten needles fell upon my arm.

The laughter died. tr/any headed back to blazin$ fires and steaming coffee.

few followed as the trail began to rise.

It continued, pockmarked by mud and stones.

A

58

Voices ceased, but my leBs beBan to talk back to me.

Shoulders hunch under the load and hooded head dnoops.

I

trudEe on.

The rain is piencinS now, lacenating jacket and soul Wind creeping into my clothes, socks, soul The trail starts up slick like a greasy slide Friends depant wishinS luck.

A lone companion remains steadfast at my side.

Clawing up the path with cnampons and fin$ers Hands groping fon roots, feet fot't'ocks.

LeSs and

arms arguing, back bucklinf' under the tnemendous load

PullinE back, lclimb on.

Here the tr"ail vanishes Face

to face with a wall of t'ock and mud.

lr/y raw

finfers are swallowed

by

the slud$e

Nails are gone, sweat and rain making cracked hands bunn

Scarlet, blistered feet chafed by sodden socks, boots offruit leathen disinte$rate The r"ain slices into me, its icy claws renderin$ my flesh Sweeping away my footholds, my hope.

My companion struggles, slips, plunges into the sea swellinI up below I am left

Hanging by my finfertips the wind shrieks Strangely beautiful, the sirens call to me Turn Back! Let Go! Come Home!

Nooooo!

I close my eyes to the wind, the last of my strenfth windinS its way to my fin gers.

My legs kick out into space NothinS

Nothing Som eth i ng

A

!

foothold and another. One mone.

tvly legs

my out, they have done all they could

They have done enough

59

I awake The screeching wind has been silenced, the rain passed.

0nce again I am canessed by the sun's gentle hands.

I lay crumpled like a piece of paper 0n the promontory.

I unfold and force my legs, wooden legs, to stand and Sr"eet the day Below I see the cliff, the tr"ail, my fr.iends, my home.

How minuscule they all seem from up here! How insi€nificant!

To my back the

trail g0es on into the trees.

Standinf, I stretch like a cat and don my pack.

I wave to my friends, home, the frapefruit dawn, and ltunn DisappeaninS into the trees.

the streets o

.9 (o

cl

"The streets, keeping it real on the streets

l,l

o

of c-i-t-y of the Chi,

c o o

keeping it real on the streets

E

don't let the true sh pass you by."

Streetba I l. lvlen whose hopes

have been drowned

in reality of avenage skills they do not even possess, continue to do their "best" on the court.

PourinS out their hearts

to the punsuit of neighborhood fame in streetball.

Their hoop aspirations 50

are destined to die in their decisions to defy

the almi€hty supplier of true talent.

Practice, the absent stench of sweat

is consumed with the unmistakable fnagrance of a black and mild. the savory scent of weed, and washed down with both wine and liquor.

ln place of water.

their chances of standom dimmer, as thein thick beer belly waistlines thicken,

So

and their fantasies fall, when at a standstill, because they are not driven.

Neven

before have I journeyed down the stneets of a nei$hborhood

in the city and only seen two darkfaces in 20 minutes.

Hmm, I guess we

just can't tolerate each other.

Playin€ ball, lau$hing with only same-color" brothers,

will limit tolerance for one another.

Therefore we remain separated by color.

But we descend down,

and into deeper depths of Division's danf,ers. and discover the existence of black neishborhoods, just across the street. and the finst person of color we meet,

complains about the lack of melanin walking down the street, funny, he,s the finst penson we met, who decided to speak. Hmm, I Suess we just can't tolerate each other.

Playing ball, laughing with only same-color brothers,

will limit tolerance for one another.

Therefore we remain separated by color.

61

52

kyte michel Grasp

pen & ink drawing

lonely nights Lonely

nithts

o

Wherelsit&write Thinking about the beauties of life Clear thoughts Which l've foutht

o,

a o o 1 o

What shall I write?

What shall I talk?

To others

l'm crazy

Just because l'm all alone But the best beauty to find is your own

I search for thinSs I will never find The answers

to life

A soul mate that is mine

I already have everything I need pen, paper &

a mind with its own destiny I love myself so I don't need much love Maybe I do, Kisses

just not the kind that comes from

& huts.

53

scatter brained Ul

This room is as dull as my face.

E

Awkwand and

L

I sit here, my thouShts bouncing from wall to wall

o

(o

o

tr E

o o f o

jagged-

My body is in a trance as it wants to move

But my eyes feel heavy and my mind numb.

I

want to talk to Chava, but he's not awake

So I close my eyes anyway and take a deep bneath Color"s

of green and blue float

by-

Stream through my veins and spill through my finger"tips I can feel the beat,

It soothes my soul.

Ana's found peace, even thoulh she's at home.

There are people downstairs with no clue of their own, that I'm here all alone.

Tomorrow l'll wake up, everything the same though my future has changed It makes so much sense, how can't they see Things aren't always as they seemEven

61

Especially when reality becomes a dream.

My bed is warm and swallows me I

in-

want to touch, absorb,

Clue myself in.

I open my eyes...

I watch

the light make the shadows dance about

And listen to the sound vibrations while they mellow me out.

When you're riSht side up in an upside down world, or"dinary is interestinf.

lily curiosity makes me 8i€81e, but can kill the cat.

Except I am a cat, with an obsenvant eye-chasing the air with nothing to fear

l've found my skin, a place to crawl.

lmagination numbs the dull.

Porque

Beca use

El Sol esta

mi

Vox

triste

esta sin logica

los mares estan secos pero mi nariz sique oliendolos

la tierra esta sucia pero todavia es bella para misojos.

la vida no existe pero mi corozon signe amardo mis huesos siquen blancos pero mi conciente es negro absorbiendo todas las luces del sol Y

y

sus lagrimas.

cuando tiempo pare de moner

yo me levantore y caminare al cielo para abrazar el sol

y reir de la locara del mundo

the sun is sad my voice is without logic the seas are dry

o

o .l o -t o o,

but my nose can still smell them the land is dirty and polluted but it is still beautiful for my eyes.

Life doesn't exist but my heart keeps lovinS My bones continue to be white but my conscious is black absorbing all the sun's lisht

and its tears.

And when time stops moving I

will get up and walk

to the sky to embrace the sun and laugh at the maziness of this world

65

unf

will be able to receive that Bift you s0 uneasily

a

Who

o

The one that allows a true glimpse of your eyes A slight vision of your soul

o,

A

l!

'tr j

air seem to give

warm image of an untouchably f iven motion

Where fingertips can read a mind A grazing of skin becomes cloud nine A protection greater than almost anything

Where eyelashes can intertwine And a keen sense of smell will read thou$hts A good sense of taste can find the perfect flavor Where a silver" chain links a bond between two hearts That gift of a mind-numbin$ love.

Who can pull you out from the inside?

I often wonder how long it

will

be-

Until I witness a new version of me by Your side

66

The one who gets

to unfold all youn layers

Smooth out creases of past pain Use steam

to inon out wrinkles of jailed

Passions-locked so deep now within your soul Who'll get brought to a place s0 serene So carefree So immaculate So breathtaking Whene a vision of the bearer can make evenything beautiful

[/ake a kiss the most sensual An embrace the most sacred And make soft spoken words into onef s own soothin$ lullaby Where you're not the protector of your red passion provider anymore A Sift where anms become steel doors

That no harm or pain could pass throuBh And I often wonder late at

night-

RiEht before I close my eyes and see your face I often childishly wonder what made up youn I often wonder who'll take my place

mind-

:tiii

67

keith zeILer

la:rrta.-

f_,:

r-l:.

[,]l-,ar

58

david ojata Feet

photographic print

69

The Landing photographic print

70

Dawn on Lake Superior photographic print

71

Hung Up to Dry photographic print

inftaytd faatha their par-

C

tr/y dad is one of the craziest people l've met. I know evenyone thinks

o

ents ane insane at least some of the time, but my dad is especially bizanne.

When I was in 6th Srade, he started wishing that he could be a pnofessional napper. He made up a rappen name for himself: "lnflaytd Faathaa"-a tribute to

C

E

E'

)t-

c(!

E'

his idol, Puff Daddy. At first, I was pretty annoyed, because I thought he was making fun of rappens and people that listened to rap, but then I realized that he was completely serious; he really and truly wanted to be a [apper. He wrote a few songs, even, althoufh for some ofthem, the content wasn't typical of

most rap songs...actually, it wasn't typical of any music $enre l've ever heard of; about half of his s0ngs were about politics and his intense hatred of all things Republican. The other half were pretty normal He made a tape of himself napping, and sent it to all of his friends, and all of our relatives. For awhile, he signed all his letters, cards, and before the bank called, his checks, Lawrence "lnflaytd Faathaa" Rudmann.

After a few years, he became a little discouraBed; he wasn't satisfied with

the quality 0f songs Puff Daddy was making anym0ne. Also, with Eminem's songs shooting up the chants, my dad became convinced that Eminem, as basi72

cally the first white napper, had "stolen his scene." Howeven, he soon got the idea to team up with his friend John, to make what he calls the "SuburbanTo$ether, my dad and John r"ent movies with $uest appearances by famous rappers every Friday nif,ht, and each sits on the couch with a clipboard, takinf careful notes. lf you look in his CD nack, in between the

White-Boy-Rapping-Duo."

Bob Dylan and Jimmy Buffet, you'd see anythin$ fnom Dr Dre, to Eminem, to Jay-Z. Also, following in the footsteps of many well-known rap artists, my dad

has started to branch out into the fashion industry. For instance, he cut the bill off a baseball cap, and now wears this every time he goes out. He calls it "NoCap-Hat-Backward." His goal is to confuse people with his hat's lack of a bill, and star"t a nation-wide trend. He also cut the sleeves off every t-shirt he owns, and wears them inside out layered oven sweatshirt. A couple of his other, nonrap-obsessed friends told him that all this was offensive, but he told them that he was just trying to do what he loved, not offend anyone.

just calls it a mid-life crisis. lr/y hard-core Republican next-door nei$hbors think it's a direct conspiracy against them. But ljust think it's damn funny; and if, for some cnazy lr/y brother thinks all

this is pretty embarrassinf.

lvly mom

reason, my dad ever gets a recond deal and starts tourin$ with some of his

idols,

l'll

cut off.

be there in the

front row, weaninS an inside-out shirt with the

sleeves

73

t" {\'

cartene

truitt Faces

pen & rnk drawing

katherine. o

t,l

c

'6 o

!

IJ

o o o

c

if daggens could have physically ejected themselves from my eyes they would have but a deathly stare was all i could muster as i necovered from the skipped heartbeats when she walked out ofthe room and shutthe door behind hen yawning and stretching and leaving him curled up like a baby on his bed she said she felt as if she had been run over by a truck the look on my face $ave me away i wished she had i was furious at him he hadn't gone to bed early and alone as he had promised i stormed in but when i saw him curled up head at

the foot of the bed tangled in the covens my heart melted

71

invisi bte understanding The utopia of love, itself. Living connections between the trees and the grass.

o.

Little kids play hide and seek only knowing innocence. Peace is given by a nodding festure of each passenby. The smell of sweet potato pie with cinnamon-

0,

chocolate sticks plus H20. As warm as it is cold, the yin yang effect. Columns times rows of apartments quietly sitting. closed eyes but observin( everything Chess in the par"k, as the woman feeds the pigeons. Cyclists calmly pursuing their next destination. wind breathing into all cneatures, the bird Ilides tri-

o 3

)o

U|

o =

umphantly. Protest r"allies of one love lift up the nation.

Two soy chocolate milk shakes! The boy asked from

thejuice bar.

0ne day he'll bethe strongest... The stronfest... Stnong in something seeing the young neserved energy inside his chest cavity growing.

Walking out into the sunshine, a father and son, dreads root like oak tnee stems. So many tones of the nationality rainbow. 0ne dark, brute, handsome

tone sticks out in the mist of pollution fnom the passing bus. pr"ofanity is rarely heard. And tr/AN! The looks from cops are hardly absurd and degnading from othen simplistic habitats.

How much is the paintinS? 0ne asks.

Half off since noute of intelligence is on course But this is only one of the midwives of its kingdom

75

vegas

o

=E ln

xq, o

FloatinS above neality I waft in the winds of existentialism Possessing that of which I know and that of which I only feel Plausible enigmas encircle my brain as thouf,h g0ing in fonthe kill Jagged edges of once imaf,inable theories stand watch within my head Beware

There is a man present who will change youn destiny Lady luck crouches over victories swaddlinE them from defeat

NursinS the wounded hopes of losinS victors molten ice slides down thnoats Snake eyes flashing the devil is positioned

0nce beautiful woman now turned sour by hope dullinB propositions turn tricks Half slunred murmuns of yestenyear fade into oblivion as the sunrises and am

bitions

Plummet

Fruit cocktails blurring with multi-colored liEht where day travels unseen The known drift below waves of exhaustion as wallets place bets King high on the mountain of victory soon to be swallowed by a stot"ybook

76

creatu re Greed

CrawlinI smoke like shattered hopes stumble out of gold-coated lead Sugar coated acid in the middle of a dessent This is Vegas my friend

btack woman You

told me that I couldn't make it.

You said I wouldn't amount to anythinS.

But riSht now I can stand here and say to you,

!. o 0,

l,l

I made it

o

I overcame

= GI

I

jumped every hurdle

Climbed every mountain And ran through every valley.

You said I was an underachiever,

Said my life would be nothinS, But a$ain I stand here and say

forced myself, I pressed MY way, now look where l'm at today.

I am a younS black woman, so you knocked me down to see if lwould fet up Guess what I did, I dusted myself off and kept on Soin' I

LOOK AT ME I

AM A BLACK WOMAN.

71

7g

w

greg schuttz Kornfed photographrc print

'Ib.e " '.:*t':a.:jj

79

PooI Batts photographrc print

the burger ln

E

lVan, oh man, could

lflip a mean hamburger

Some people view it as a simple

.g

task, but I know better. lt takes skill, neal talent to make the perfect bunfer.

= L

0ne must use just the riEht amount of charcoal, a little lighten fluid and a match to iEnite the perfect flame. You need to know when to flip the hambunf-

o

= !

er, so it doesn't end up looking like your charcoals. Nobody likes a blackened,

I

mean really burnt, bur$er. Dry, hand and crusty burgers are not much for one's

taste buds. But you see, you don't want it to be under cooked, either. Pink is not a good color for a burgen, erther. There are also dangens involved with an under-cooked burger. I mean serious dangens 0ne could get e. coli poisoning on salmonella if a bunger is not cooked properly, which could put a penson's

life at risk Hamburfer safety is no joke. The huge nesponsibility of producinf the perfect burf,er and pleasinf customers is weighted solely on the shoulders of the hamburger chef Lucky for me, the penfect hamburger is the only kind of

burger I know how to make. Just when the juices begin to run, that's when you flip it, trappinf, pure flavored goodness inside.

Not only do you need a sixth sense to have the pr"ecision to flip burgers,

80

you need to understand that when you top your burgen, it is a for"m of ar"t. The

burger and buns are y0ur canvas, and the condiments are y0ur paints. There's mustard, mayo, ketchup, relish and pickles. This is the tunning point in the burger creation There needs to be.1ust the master"piece would end up in shambles. A dash of ketchup, a smidSe of mustard, and for those risk takers, a pinch

of salt thrown over it all. A new Sistine Chapel would be born.

Let's not forget cheese, which is a whole other world. The types of cheese ane unlimited You've g0t your feta, cheddar, Swiss, N/onterrey Jack, and don't

forget about the classic American cheese. Cheese is a very important factor in constructing the burf,er; it could make or bneak it. lt is necessary that rt be pout on immediately after the burger is taken off the gnll. That way, y0u are able to manipulate the natural heat rising off the bun$er to melt the queso. No othen cooking is necessary; keeping the burser perfectly cooked A cold, unmelted slice of cheese, however, will slide out of a burger and make it messy The eater of the burger will no longer" be concerned wrth the fine flavor, but preoccupied with the sliding cheese and how he wants to keep his clothes clean. A distracting sliding cheese could r"uin evenythinf Cheese plays such

a

key role in the burf,er industry and it has its own bur$er" named after it. lt is m0st c0mm0nly refenred to as the infamous "cheeseburger."

Swarms of children appr"oach me at the grill, demandinS that their burfers be above all. 0ne false move and it would be Armageddon. Such a task would seem impossible to some, nequirinf, c0ncentnation of the utmost level, but handle it with ease. Flipping the steaminS pieces of bovine, I am ever so caneful I

to interfere with the bondins going on between meat and gr"ill the mechanrc like motion will ensure that litile Tommy's burser is neithen too hot nor undercooked. To sit throush any complaints would be devastating. squinting a little more li$hter fluid onto the grill really sets the flame roaring, screaming at the

top of her lunfs like a hungry newborn. sittrng at ten evenly placed picnic tables, my guests ar"e stirr"ing in their seats, wondering to themselves, when

therr awesome burgers will be served. The tantalizing ar0ma is beckoning them to creep over and take a peek as I wor.k my maf ic. Although the heat coming off the grill is causins mass perspiration. I simply wipe my brown and continue. They're countinf on me to br"ing them perfection.

The process of

grillinf was coming to a close, as my assistant chef beings lifhily onto

he condiment pnepanations Lifting each piece of lettuce ever so

the crisp buns. Draping the tomatoes and onions, a technique he picked up watching his father" years ag0 Finally, the t0p rs applied and the masterpiece is seeminf ly finished, bun no, rt will be put through 0ne more test. After keen

in inspection by the chef, they are off to the tables full of anticipating peens who will be come the main factor, the final test A victory would not only satisfy the taste buds of this crowd, but would solidify the reputation of my super"b talents behind the frill as well. watching from a distance, intensely observing each mouth-water"ing bite, lcan sense satisfaction. what if the crowd desines more? How will I answer their demands? To feed the need, to appease their appetites? Stepping backto my gnlling position, the requests come firing in. throw on the meaty discs and rush through the delicate pr0cess, hoping to prove that I can pnoduce my fine product once again. No, wait...they wenen't

I

requestin$ more at all. I r"ealized this, peering to my right, that the burgens had all been disregarded into the tnash. ln an act 0f disgust and rage I nipped off my chef's hat and send the flipper flying. I decided that lwould go s0mewhene where I would be appreciated. somewhere I could b tr"eated with

respect. I kept walkrng until I saw the golden arches. I walked thr"oufh the doors and found my tnue calling: "Hi, may l take your orden?"

81

personaI touch

.!

want to know what your lips taste like as the moon watches And see the sun's expression as you move shadows with your smile.

= .9

I sit ponder"ing the effects of your magic potion

o

U

While wonder"ing the invisible steps of the Atlantic 0cean.

o

Youn

t-

E

I

face dancing behind my closed eyes.

Your name jukin$ on my ton$ue.

Yet for the moment, only leavin$ these lips in a whisper.

Waters calmin$ my anxious soul lvloistening this chocolate-covered warrior to your satisfaction,

tilolding this enigma of lost definition However Siven labels to be considered of normality: young, black, male Beneath the name "Marcelis," and at first $lance That is all you will see, Let me show you I am more than just another cneature.

SharinS your oxygen.

Let me be your oxygen.

82

first breath of fresh air that consumes you when a new day is bonn, The first breath of fnesh ain that invades y0un senses at the lakefront, The first breath of fresh air that pobs the heart of memories or being broken The

And allowing the only way a tear to be shed is throu$h happiness, 0nly I can give you, but I guess, risht now, l'm just talking Just talking and talkinS instead of doin( Talking about what I could be doin9 But I call your name and you won't come to me

words mean nothin$ And nothing gets done and I wanna run But in which direction? Damn I look dumb, So these

l'm trying to undenstand where l'm going, But can't really see where I came from.

So I look up and get blinded by the sun that is jealous of you And the moon watches.

Gravitationally stir"ning the waves to spell out your name Still the sun warms the currents that we mi$ht Swim in hand-in-hand one day.

enn graves

Kristina Adamczewski is a sophomone and a Taurus. She is creative and likes to write.

John Glark is a kid tryinE to open up the rest of the to new sif,hts and ounds. He listens to

Mathieu Brown "l hope that my writing will inspine people

to go beyond the limits of conventional wniting.

So, just try writing and see

Ph is h.

what happens."

Ashley Garnaghi "il/y inspiration for photography stems fnom real life experiences.

CapturinB one's life in

photoisafift."

Gaitlin Greeley "l'm the penson your panents warned you about."

Salvadore

81

Lozano-

Alvarado enjoys building homes for

those in need and takinS pic-

Alyssa Haglen has been writing fon yeans for no real profit, much to her dismay. She enjoys sum-

mer vacation, new haircuts, playinB €uitan, and the sound of rain... but not composing Eeneral

desriptive statements.

Chambers "l took the photo while

ested in pho-

tofraphy to pursue their dreams."

Zach Day is very calm and laid back.

He likes wr"itinS and sometimes plays with empty beer bottles.

tlafiz "[/y goal is to break art free fnom the constnaints imposed by [/rs. Spicuzza's cultural death Srip.

0nce havinE accomplished this I will move 0nto bringing down lr/r. Noble and his reign oftenror."

Iloretha Hill was adopted when she was thnee days old. She is EoinE Columbia in the fall as an ant major. She has two rottweilers.

Gerald Jefferson is an actot" and the

Alex

Kircher

Ben lfiel draws for fun He normally

went to lr/ann school, then he didn't. We missed him,

head of the fashion merchandisinB club

just doodles,

n0w

but once in awhile gets inspired by a bunst of creativity and

he's back.

does real drawinBs.

I

encourage all people inten-

Billy Jackson

tu re s.

I

was 0n an assignment

for Trapeze.

Phobey Gass's name is not Phoebe, but instead Phobey. She loves chemistry.

h Golky is a wniter who will be attendin€ Columbia College. He has been to oven I00 readinfs and eats a lot of mayo and cheese sa ndwi ch es.

Sean

Philip Hill writes a lot

says his

Patrick Kevil neally

Grissie

likes black licorice.

Kenninglton says,"l feel as if beauty in Iife were meant for"

Katheryn Kleeman

favorite pasttime is sarCASM.

is in spoken word the day dreamand has been wniters." ing since she was a little ginl. Her zodi- Ghris Melnyk "Cheese is bad ac sign is Vir[0.

Go Bosox."

Adrain leGesne likes sunliEht and clouds. He Iim Madden has been writint poetry works for his future and looks, as often as he for the past 6 weeks. His main influcan, at the beautiful and the pleasant. toils, all his days, alone.

He

ences are Freddie Got Fingened, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers

Kyle Michel is a senior and has been interested in

art for sometime. The picture is a self-portrait and states his lndividuality.

Itohan Osaigbo, a junior", has been involved in Spoken Word all her years at OPRF and is active in youn$ Chicago 0rs.

Jerany Otero is often confused with her evil twin "Jenamy:" Try not to confuse the two.

Brandon Muench can draw his boot-ay off, in cer"tain editors'o

Patrick Mulcahy would

Alex l{ied sometimes wnites

like to encourage everyone to buy Alliance's new cd.

thin€s.ln his other time, he wrrtes music for his band, A.D.D., which is working on its second album.

Susanna Ramos credits teachers who don't nestnict their students, but let them wnite fneely. For this senior, writing has always been easiest.

Bistau is an awesome kick-boxer Dylan Rudmann is a senion. She's been wniting weekly as a stress reliever fon as

lonf as she

can

ilora Schlesingler tickled pink to be

is

in

Crest. 0n behalf of Courtney, she would like to offer these

remember, but appreciates the focus that

wor"ds of wisdom:

Mr. Zabransky's Creative Wr"itinS class

tant ego maniac lrke it's a bad thing." Next

brought to her wonk.

stop: PouShkeepsie.

"You say self-rmpor-

Smiley

Strong "l was inspired to write this not only because l'm AfricanAmenican, but because l'm an African-American w0man."

Garlene Truitt "lr/y favorite color is gneen though hardly use it in

Hillary Williams

my artwork. KK we miss you fnom

plays field

all of us in draw-

and soc-

ing class."

cer.

I

is a senion and

hockey

"We are the

music makens we are the reamers of reams. A flute h no holes is not a flute but a donut with no hole is a Danish - think about

pin ions.

llavid 0jala is a dynamic individual who enjoys scaling large works of modenn art and improving the thermal efficiency oftrain statrons on his lunch bneaks.

Jeremiah

Garlo Reyna has

P. Reilly

always used Spanish to convey heart and soul.

enj oys

drawing, painting, attending book burn-

Io this senior, "English is a rationalization." He started writing in jun-

ior hifh.

ings, and

giving up persona

I

riShts for' job security

Dorian Shelton started wniting in sixth Snade and says, "l

guess writing just blossomed for me."

Greg Shultz wants to be a race can passengen: just a guy who bugs the driver. "Say man, can I turn on the radio? You should slow down and hy do we gotta keep going in circles? Can I put my feet out the window? Boy, you r"eally like Tide."

Marcelis Wyatt "This poem is about nobody in this school.

Nothing I write even is."

it" Keith Zeller "The bare essentials have come. Now its e to lay down and ignore the duchkha.

85

editor's bios JamieI Cornetio's

Katherine Parker

most prominent feature used to be his long nails. Now, it's his flaf rant use of the word

says don't tread on her

and invest in Pixie lickin' eve ryd ay

Marisa Geoghegan

enjoys wearing muu-muus

is a wonderful girl

and watchinf, Fnench films,

She also smells

{ o

Meg Prossnitz

life

l/t

!

"pumpern ickel."

full of

3 o

dah linS.

like peanut butter

)

cr

z (.cl'

o

(n

6'

Abby Van Deusen's

Erin Graves

sole aspiration in life is

is one of the most wonderful people I know

winninf a national hot dog

Unfortunately, she's also

about Abby.

CL

u

eating contest. We worry

Canadi an.

Dave Walwark

Lisa Locascio

plays outside. Fr"isbee,

was born and raised in that pit of evil, Riven Forest

yol

She's been slowly working hen way to the top, where she

will battle

for"

the soul of the

snowboarding, and camping, But when inside he can be found playing fuitar and

desifning whatever he can get his hands on.

high school literary magazine.

Lisa sends her love to the

Emity White

Crestaceans, Noah and Young

was a princess lon[, long ago

Chicago Authors.

Now she's on Cnest. tilY, H0W THE TABLES HAVE TURNED.

Erin Lyons is really cool but sadly,

Anne Wootton

has no life outside of Crest

has this weird thing about me carnying her into

and Say What magazine.

class. I mean, jeez, l've only

Niget Shietds

dropped her twice.

used to be a genius. But since the pancake incident,

Rich Zabransky

he hasn't been the same.

is our favorite stuffed animal.

He makes the wor"ld go 'round.

87

don't trash your crest! instead, why don't you: make paper cranes wrap gifts

pick up do€ poop wall paper your room or closet make ransom letters

papier mache make paper airplanes

prop up uneven table le$s paper train your puppy pack boxes without those peanut thin$s make confetti make spitballs make paper hats make a paper me$aphone use it for a coaster use it as toilet paper

write notes on it to your friends stuff your bra or pants donate it to a random library hide a dirty ma$azine in its vir$in pages send it to a needy child in Ghana

0r, if you are among the unmeative few, you can return it to the Crest Office in room 307A. Just please, please, please...don't throw it out!

we love our trees.