Cerebral Contents:

Update for 05.13.08:

Male Model by Phil Doran

Set to Replay by Willie Smith

Backsliding by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

Tree by G. David Schwartz

05.05.08:

Disintegration by Don Hucks

Five Feet and Building by Joel Van Noord

Grocery Aisle by Richard Lighthouse

Cross the Road by Ashok Niyogi

04.29.08:

Lookalikes by Phil Doran

Dinner by Brandi Wells

The Modern Covenant by Daniel E. Wilcox

Death by Onions by Michael Frissore

04.21.08:

Future's Children by Kimberly Raiser

Identity Theft by George Anderson

The Datists by Adam Engel

A Great Deal of Money by Justin Hyde

04.14.08:

Mr. Papaya and Dale by Eric Suhem

California by Caroline Imreibe

Aftermath of Vehement Argument #1,068 by Cynthia Ruth Lewis

Trip-Hammer Vitality by Lisa Nickerson

04.07.08:

The Florence of Basel, or Why Readers of Nietzsche Need to Read Burckhardt by Jeff Crouch

Slideshow by Miles J. Bell

Friends of the Poet by Sean C. Bowen

Picture Perfect by Leah Baldwin

03.24.08:

The Streak by Jeremy Hendrix

Grab Your Butts by Emme Hor

Far Away by Ashok Niyogi

Staring Down a White-Tailed Doe by Aleathia Drehmer

03.17.08:

The Hairbrush by Vernard Kennedy

Dog Days of Winter by Niall Berkeley

Poem From My Grave by Michael Lee Johnson

Mashed Potatoes and Hamburgers by Matt Finney

03.10.08:

Hard Work by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Jetty Cake Pigs by J.D. Nelson

I'm Quiet in Bed by Moctezuma Johnson

Tequila Shakes by Richard Lighthouse

Walk Quickly, Don't Think

by Kristin Blank

Winner of the 2005 Cerebral Catalyst Bird Flu Poetry Contest.

This room is filled with ragged breath.
I exhale sour from sour,
inhale the same.

I will go to work
because I live in America
and that is
what I have to do.
Typhoid Mary:
dragging my sickness
along behind me,
my virus will cover your
heads like so many burial shrouds.

Noise and light,
oblivion,
noise and light.

The second hand of the clock
cuts a swath through me,
sliding through this piece of
meat
more slowly than you could
ever imagine.

Abort. Retry. Fail.
Please
contact your system administrator.

I am the girl at the bus stop
with the wet cough
that you move away from.
You are scared
and well you should be.

We are guilty of
making the bacteria stronger;
we are guilty of
racing too fast against
time.

Home, in my condemned bed,
I know the next thing
I cough up
will be my heart.

______________________________________
Kristin Blank is a Renaissance woman. She is the vocalist for Sing the Evens, Play the Odds. She writes the underground comic Hate Your Friends. In her spare time, she likes to curb stomp triflin' fools.

posted 11.14.05.

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