Page 37 - Contrast1989
P. 37
CONTRAST 1989
Hemingway's Despair
You are like a trashy novel I once read-
A tale ot sex without substance,
A lover's playground without a plot.
Sometimes I look at the cover
And wish to read it again-
But it is useless;
I already know the ending.
The excitement is gone, the climax has collapsed
Leaving only the explicit scenes highlighted in
yellow marker.
With disgust, I shelve the tattered paperback,
Leaving it to pique another woman's curiosity
Leaving her to sift through the dregs of literature
While wishing she were illiterate.
By Rhonda Mize
A Date
How many dots are on the ceiling?
Will this nightmare ever end?
How could my judgement have been so wrong?
Why would he do this to me?
When will he stop?
How many dots are on the ceiling?
By Stacy Spielman
35
