| jennifer tungjennifer tung is a 19-year-old student at ohio state university
      majoring in nursing. her work has appeared in the columbus dispatch,
      the lancaster eagle-gazette, thunder sandwich, electric acorn,
      voices, will soon appear in glass tesseract.
 Works on this page:tenacity in a midwestern cornfield
 hungry
 assault
   Tenacity in a Midwestern CornfieldOn the wires crows sing their funeral dirge as the Land below
      them drains its last movement.The flatness of the geography mocks the mind with
 Its barren drought, its shriveled cornstalks
 Collapsing under the heat of errors. Past mistakes
 Shake their heads via zig-zag motions in the enduring
 air;
 Inspiration is a wasteland here, sapped as
 Moisture by the already-dying soil as if failure
 Is further needed
 To prove to this withering thinking-place that giving
 up doesn't cease with
 Surrender, endings differ
 From ends. But the scenery crackles with just
 One glance, the corn only have the memory
 Of yellowing ideas long past gone
 To grow for. And isn't that enough?
 Continuing to wait
 When the waiting has already left you,
 Keeping up with something in a
 Field of nothing.
 Standing guard at the doorway -
 Until you catch up with changing
 And the change catches up with you.
   HungryThere's not much to view: a wash basinCrusted with rust, cockroach shit
 On the cement floor, a pair of underwear,
 A trash bag overflowing.
 Is there still need for a mirror?
 She scrubs at the dried bloodOn her lips with a scrap of toilet paper.
 Applies ointment. Rinses her hand, no soap.
 Tugs at the bead chain to turn the bulb
 Off.
 A hand reaches inside her brassiere, fingers the
 Money; the thoughts
 In the room bulge in every direction like
 Balloons under a faucet.
 She stares at them.
 In the dark, they look like obese redSmiles attached
 to obese red stomachs
   AssaultHis obssession with stillness is stemmedFrom the sagging mattress with the
 Sienna stains that could have been
 A wedding night or a rape, homicidal
 Jealousy or heroin overdose. He draws
 Genitals on embroidered dogwood,
 Tracing the outlines of their interlocking jigsaw
 pieces.
 Outside
 Trash bags fly,
 Pigeons fertilize fenced-in lots.
 Sunlight baptizes him and
 His hollow flowerpots, rust eating them both in
 Cancerous outrage. Outside
 Trash bags
 Fly (why can't I).
 His obssession with stillness has stemmed,Has blossomed.
   |