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From section 2, Childhood, of Saltian
The Feast of St. Catherine
By Alice Shapiro
Our carnival at the vacant lot
burst onto town each June
like a Verdi opera.
Pink gossamer to eat
mud-stomped grass beneath our feet
a shrill Italian song
emanating over children’s jeers
the aim to win
to beat old carneys’ sleights
against all odds.
And the gambler’s vice begins.
Day fades, lanterns light
a crowd wanders, circling
tent-booths lined with wooden ducks
dead to barrels
aimed to kill.
And the gun for sport dawns.
We spin around on giant teacups
dizzy from the ride
take note of a faint, free mind
and reach for sweet, indulgent wine.
At dusk, painted horses gallop on their everlasting turns
help us grab the golden ring
and if our sense is strong enough
a holy promise sings.
Critique: Responsive writing
Aimed to Kill
By Maxwell Baumbach
it doesn’t last
spin in those giant teacups
before the holy promiser
picks them up and eats them
like Willy Wonka did in the room
of edible treats
it’s good to see you realize
days are fading
soon your dreams will
too
don’t keep reaching for the golden ring
the only thing that will result from it
is a torn rotator cuff
promises are no different than hearts
made to be broken
or at least abused
one of a holy nature
only assures hypocrisy
the barrels are aimed to kill
what you hope will be born
tomorrow
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Maxwell Baumbach is a manchild from Elmhurst IL. He is the editor of Heavy Hands Ink. He has authored the chapbooks Suburban Rhythm (Scars Publications, September 2010) and You’re Welcome (Alternating Current, March 2011). His first full-length collection, At Age Twenty, is slated for a January 2012 release from unbound CONTENT. In his spare time, Maxwell enjoys watching unhealthy amounts of Sports Center and sleeping.
