Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Poem from the creative minds of Bryan Kish and Lauren Krause

North of Newark

it's hot.
Not the good kind of hot
But the kind of heat that paralyzes.
Mind and body are not one.
Sweltering summer snow only lay
A few inches from me--
A phone call away.

That’s the kind of city this is.
Where garbage litters once clean and
Hopeful streets and welcoming benches,
Lay as shattered ruins like a dilapidated movie house.
Reeling messages, scenes and stories told only
Through graffiti.
This is summer North of Newark.

By: Lauren Krause and Bryan Kish

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