John Doe Number 2-4-6-8

Name on the tag that hangs from his big toe,

Ghastly sheet looms overhead with dried blood smears,

Appearance of something scribed by Edgar Allen Poe.

Here the dead man lies but hold back your tears,

For neither I, nor you, nor the world knew him.

Forgotten, except by himself and those sharing his name,

Daily left to rot as the light grows dim.

Animosity feelings are untamed,

As John's silent shouts upon deaf ears fall.

While his tombstone simply says RIP,

The unknown soldier's monument stands tall,

Body blown to bits with no identity.

His name, his body, his life, minute or great,

Unknown, unmourned, John Doe number 2-4-6-8

by Inna Bruter

drawing by Craig Hein

Happy Song

What if our existence was a parable,

And after spinning the iridescent door

We found that it was run

By a little guy who turned the wheels,

And cranked about our petty little lives

He lifts his head, looks up, and says:

I'm feelin' fine

This is paradise

I can't remember when I've had

So much fun,

Please end it all,

Yes, end it all.

If I had a dime for every time I

Failed to lift up my head and ask the time,

Well, I'd be rich, I'd buy a hot dog.

All the money in your hands

Won't buy you time.

Time is a lie, it says to me:

I'm feelin' fine

This is paradise

Your mind is free

Inside my cage,

Please torn it off,

Just turn it off.

Pencil lines and radio waves create

The common ground we stand on while

We shudder, count to ten, and hope for

Better days.

Plenty of time to find the guy,

The little one who calls the shots

If he pops up I know I'll run screaming:

I'm feelin' fine

This is paradise

And show me the way to

Tomorrow, I wouldn't' ask,

But it seems today has gone away,

So far away.

I've nothing left to bare except

The barest traces of my shimmering

Dreams. And now won't you just

Write me off as coming back for

All the rest of you, and I'll be damned

If I don't prove you right

Every time, while yelling:

I'm feelin' fine

This is paradise

I can't explain it but I know that

Wile I live, It's always

To your health,

I toast your health.

Yes, while I live it's always to your health,

And that's just fine.

by Eric Pidkameny

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