What We've Done

By guest author Connor Prendergast

Is our hubris

So unconquerable
That we truly believe 
Our words - our ideas - 
Can even begin to 
Allude to the vastness, 
The complexity 
And majesty of 
Where we are? 
How we are? 
The greatest poets 
Are tongue-tied. 
The greatest thinkers, 
Philosophers, 
Yield only great 
Questions. 
And yet, how 
Is there hope? 
We sit, so obviously 
Paraplegic, 
At the base of 
Olympus Mons. 
So inexplicably, 
We realize our tears, 
Rising geysers, 
Are products of 
Our immense joy.

I Must Go On Standing

By guest author Connor Prendergast

Love is a long

Catastrophe,

Like the bruises plain

On hips, jeans

Drawn so low.

Like the silent

Crumple

When her breath

Falls warmly on

My neck, asleep.

The fire would

Be a low murmur,

A sort of

Cosmic play

On the sparks

On kindling,

Across the room.

We are aware,

Now,

That we can

collapse and explode,

All at once.