Sunday School Ed. 2 - "Cliche'"

CLICHE'

Cliche' is out now,
i have nothing more to vow.
It's for the month of March,
I eat way too much starch.

So buy it while you can,
stand up and be a better man.
I think i write and talk a lot,
I think i need a nap on a cot.

(Anonymous)


Observe in this issue:

Poetry from Biz Gayson and Ashlee Lyman

Untitled
By Elizabeth Gayson

Maybelline eyes and Cover Girl lips;
Sweet insecticide heart and wounded fingertips.
Oh, Bon-Bon Surprise, won’t you have a drink
Your nails are painted blue with a cheap promise ring
You call it like you see it, I’m sure you don’t see much.
You’re just a say Pretty girl who doesn’t get touched.
They take you all over; they can’t see your heart,
And you hide it so well when your world falls apart.
Max Factor skin, oh, won’t you come in? it’s getting cold out there.
Dear, do you cry, and dear, do you die?
Your blood is everywhere.
Poises can cut just as deep as a knife
Searching and losing can ruin your life.
So, Maybelline spies and Cover Girl mutts—
Paint your toenails and bathe in pink suds.
Girls hide your cuts.


Map
By Ashlee Lyman

Follow deep blue line of Boulder Mountain.
Ride horse for miles through sage flats, dry creek beds,
and Quaky tree patches on summer days.
Leaving behind trees baring scars of men who once
carved out dates, posted without permission.

Night empties day, Mountain fades to canyons.
Throw down wool blanket, scratchy and smells of horse sweat.
Lay out saddle pillow, undress sore feet;
shit, clay, straw, twigs, stuck in spurs and boot soles.
Listen to embers crackle, tracing patterns in the night sky.

Dreams draw circles against Orion’s Belt.
Sleep near blazing fire, return to index.


Thanks for Reading!
P.S. - C.C.P.D. can suck my dick ass.