In the crowded streets
In the big hotels
In the mosques and the doors of the old museum
I take a holy vow
To never kill again
Try to remember peace


Melanie Schiff, Neil Young, Neil Young, 2006

The Big Day
-- Tina Celona

Helplessly in the bright air
Dreaming of war
The President wakes. The cameras are ready
And waiting. The President climbs into the cab
Of a big green tractor and
Waves to the angry populace.
He honks the horn and flashes the lights
To applause. "New-cular," he whispers
Happily. America is a great country.
Everyone else had better
Watch out!


We Were The 11 O'clock News
-- Richard Brautigan

we were the 11 o'clock news
because while the rest of the world
was going to hell we made love


Future Structures
-- by William D. Waltz

They will build themselves. We will call them green buildings. They will breathe, they will perspire. Their roofs will be fields of winter wheat. Their windows, semipermeable membranes. They'll grow like coral reefs and resemble hills and mountains, so much so the hills and mountains will forgive our trespass. As these future structures respire the emptiness within will meet the emptiness without. The withered tree will find a spring and a flock of crows will lift from their perch in one great semaphore. This will mark the end of modern architecture as we have come to call our dream.


Killing a Mosquito at Four in the Morning
-- by David Hernandez

From outside my bedroom window
I must've looked holy as I moved
slowly across the room in my robe,

head tilted heavenward,
both hands raised like a priest
in a painting by El Greco.

I must've appeared saintly
in that brief moment when I clapped,
bringing my palms together

as many do when they pray,
asking for good health, for money,
a miracle in a time of hopelessness,

or something less demanding-like sleep.