selected past writing at 42opus


Dear with Extremes of Thirst and Pain by ADRIAN LURSSEN & SUSAN TICHY

First eyelids and lips are closed, then open. Now, open eyes appear unseeing. A kind of dreaming.

For thousands of years people have carried their faces this way, one by one, only on their heads.

Under these conditions nothing is harder to control than reason. You babble without speaking,

march into the desert without water. We will die tomorrow, the day after at the latest.

14 December 2007 | poetry, collaboration



We spit the sucked off pulp off one side

of the porch, then spit the pumpkin seeds

into wooden bowls while Dad shook spices

in a Ball jar, something secret, something

different than the secret thing for popcorn

he called "Magic," seasons humming into

open drawers and cookie sheets. We wanted

only to carve but did this work for him.

12 September 2008 | poetry



Whether you salt me or not

We swallow our mouths together.

We call states.

Name together the animals we'd kill

Singing O Dead Angels all the while.

8 July 2010 | poetry



I sprinted towards the doors, without hesitation; Ian and Kate close behind me, pushing and shoving—propelling me forward. Once at the door, I crept in slowly, excited and relieved to feel the warm, humid air—mingled with the thick smell of chlorine. On the opposite end of the Olympic size pool, was our school motto, painted in large, sweeping, chirographic strokes: Scientia Auget Vires (Knowledge Increases Strength).

"Is anyone else in the building today?" I wondered aloud, suddenly nervous.

24 September 2007 | fiction, flash fiction, unpublished writers


The Human Seasons by JOHN KEATS

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;

There are four seasons in the mind of man:—

He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear

Takes in all beauty with an easy span…

14 June 2006 | poetry, classic, sonnet, rhyme

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