By Joe Hess
Red lipstick, a white-faced study hall
bull session in a modern maze
of classrooms on the edge of town
where the eyes of a gunman
blink during repeated flashes,
and the reflexed crouch
under florescent light
heralds no glory. We identify
with fragile containers spilling
on tile floors, saturating
sweatshirt mottos. Concrete
lives leave us dangling in time
unyieldingly. Our blood returns
to earth like saline tears.
About the Author
Joe Hess is from Columbus, Ohio, and received his MA and MFA from Miami University and Ashland University, respectively. You can find his work in *82 Review, The Ekphrastic Review, and Lime Hawk Literary Arts Collective. His personal Web site has access to more of his publications
Bullets into Bells 