out ofyor mind

S A P I E N T

Western Piedmont Community College

Morganton, North Carol na

DEDICATED TO THE BRIDGES k BUILD

7 h Mean th&!.u4e B i d i o n a w A

G h & i m A h W Q ~ " n a p M w oa Auving w i d o m , &el ~ ~ g . * We h p e &at you can g& ui .dom and UQ-@U& bigU ,&OR fh idiuA+ m p m d e d w o ~ o$ a&& crrecL.ted o d op O M

oWrt m i d h m G ! i d 0 g o w r BY m&g Am& p a d o# o m NO& &CLt L4 l t A d w w ihe p a g u o# S&ia& we h o p a caruct ion 4-e m d @ &dkMmt &d you AQ.42 in a% wo& and khQ2 we neel a0 fiat il&hdaQ do& A& w i u l.2 ldAm {on dhz &ahing*

We mu& like a!a &ank Bof W ~ . . & ~ X L dl Q! h a gnaphic daign and &ping c~&&tce. WiAhout 0 , 2hA m a g a z i n e c& not L. "7hank d o go Lo f l m g d k p a o n , o L V L & h ~ / t l a n d & a % . e l L i a d a n d ~ &O c o m h A d a ! f o S m M . Ide h o p you enJoy &g S c t l , b d d much a-4 we anjoyed puiaxng 2 dogethen.

Title

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Blinded By the . . . . . . . . City Lights aha powell

Betjeve . . , . . . . . . . Jayne Peeler . . . . . One Step Forvard . . Matthew Barper

. . . . . . . Ain't the Ant John T r a v i ~ ~ o l t

. . . . . . . . . . . . . Love Jayne Peeler . . . . . . . . . . . . . Graff i t i sapient S t a f f . . . . . . . . . . . . Truth Town Darrsll F . Camby

Blame Xt On Midnight . . . . . Leo Lunn . . . . TOO Much . . . . . . . . . . . Darxell F . Camby

. . . . . . . . [Unt i t led] Dale Mixrray

k a r Sail e . . . . . . . . . Sapient Staff

The Secret Society of . . . . the Hidden Disease . . . . ~ e e ~ u n n

Gaugaf n. the Legacy . . . . . L e e Lunn . . . . When #ovjng Under Asphalt . . John Travis ~ o l t

by Teresa Haynes

B l i n d e d By t h e C i t y L i g h t s

by Alma Powell

Time has raced by since t h a t late afternoon. Once again I boarded a Greyhound bus bound f o r New York, but re turn ing w i t h me was my nine month old son, Mike. I was exc i ted and eager, but I knew 1 had t o be pa t ien t . New York was a long and t i r i n g fourteen hour t r i p . I h a s t i l y prepared a comfortable pallet f o r Mike on the spare seat beside me and handed him, the still warm bottle o f m i l k . A f te r dr ink ing it, he tossed the enipty bottle a s i d e and drifted o f f i n a snug and peaceful sleep. The bus doors slammed shut, and we were on our way!

I had no i d e a what the f u tu re h e l d for the two o f us. It had been ea r l y l a s t Tuesday morning when the b i g and impor- t a n t looking l e t t e r came special del ivery from Howard's lawyer. He wanted t o know if I could come to New York and stressed the importance o f br ing ing my c h i l d wi th me. I was weighted down with questions; what would the outcome o f t h i s trip be?

It had been almost a year and a h a l f ago when Howard and 1 agreed t o separate f o r a while; just long enough t o work out our f u tu re plans f o r us and the c h i l d we were expecting. An apartment had t o be found and we would need furn i ture. Howard requested some time t o get h i s plan going which was okay w i th me for I needed t o go back home t o clear up some things and make ready for my new home i n New York. A two-months separation had been the t ime we decided upon. The months flew by and 1 heard from Howard only once during a1 1 that time. Maybe he had needed more time than I had realized. I thought, maybe now he was now ready t o carry on h i s life wi th me and our c h i l d . I glanced over a t the adorable sleeping c h i l d beside me; here l i e s the answer! Smil ing and so assured, I laid my head back on the seat; things were going to work o u t for us a f t e r all. I settled - down and t r i e d t o rest.

As the bus roared from town t o town, I began to reminisce about the past. It was i n the late f i f t ies , f resh ou t o f high school, young, and' naive, 3 had been a11 o f these, but I was raring t o go. My oldest s i s t e r had convinced my mother t o let

p n e come t o New York and s t a y w i t h her. She said t h a t jobs i n New York were p l e n t i f u l and I could ge t one without undue diffi- culty. I had grown up i n t h i s small town o f Morganton where I knew everybody and there was never much going on. I knew

New York would be much d i f f e r e n t and d i f f e r e n t i t was!

I greeted New York i n a l l i t s glory. Downtown New York was lit up as i f i t was the middle o f the day. It was 1:30 a.m. on 42nd Street, yet you would th ink the day was j u s t starting- there were so many people out that you had t o tu rn side ways t o get through the crowds. The tower1 ng skyscrapers cast b r i 1 1 i ant reflections on the East River a t night adding t o the dazzle of the already glowing ci ty . The news as i t happened across the world was constantly being flown out i n b ig l ighted l e t t e r s high above 4Znd Street . I found myself staring up t o see if I could tell where the top of the bui ld ings were. My s i s t e r would tell me not t o stare, f o r people could always tell you were from a small town in the South.

The f i r s t time 1 v i s i t e d New York, my s is te r took me t o Harlem t o see our Aunt Minnie. She l i v d on 125th Street, j u s t a -few blocks from the famous Apollo Theatre. You could see famous movie stars at anytime. The week we stayed wi th Aunt Minnie, I saw Nat King Cole, i n person l

The next morning Aunt Minnie was up early and on the street! II She was anxious t o f i n d out what the predicted number" was

f o r t h a t day. When she returned t o the apartment she introduced us to the "numbers racket." Everybody played the numbers; from the very young to the very old. A few cents or a dollar betted on a number could possibly bring back hundreds o f dollars and maybe thousands i f you betted as much as a dollar. Some always played t h e i r house numbers or telephone numbers. I t was indeed the thing t o do i n the c i t y .

The lifestyles i n Mew York were so di f ferent than what I had been accustomed to. People stayed up a l l night and slept most of the mornings. Some slept a l l n ight i n movie houses f o r they had no homes. The winoes and pros t i tu tes were on every corner. People s lept i n doorways-anywhere they could lay t h e i r heads. The streets were always f i l l e d with fo lk trying to sell something. Young g i r l s and boys would approach you with jewelry, expensive shoes and f i n e clothing. I asked Aunt Minnie about the goods and where they came from. She s a i d they were "hot goods" stolen from downtown and brought t o Harlem t o sell. She sa id it was okay t o buy them because no policeman i n h i s

right mind would dare come t o Harlem t o chase down a mere cloth- ing thfef ! H i s l i f e was 'worth more than t h a t ! When we l e f t Aunt Minnie's we went t o a boarding house on Long Is land where Novel 7 a stayed.

It was a t t h i s borading house that I f i r s t met Howard. We l i k e d each other instant ly . That very evening Howard asked my sister i f I ~ o u l d accompany him t o New York t o see some o f the sights there. Our relationship got o f f to a f l y i n g s tar t .

I It seemed as i f we were ooing a l l the tSme! Things sort o f . . moved fast.er than we both anticipated, but I was cer ta in Howard k, - war serious about our relationship. I loved h i s caring way

he guided me through the many places i n New York. His protec- t i v e arms were always there as we went t o the many nice places. ble almost always had a marvelous time. He laughed and teased me the f i r s t time I entered a bar. I was shocked when I saw the "go-go" girls who came on staged stripped down t o almost nothing shaking the i r naked bossoms without shams. There were

11 b ig tough looking guys who acted as Bouncers," paid t o keep the bars orderly and qufet. Anyone causing a disturbance was thrown out.

When we l e f t the bar, we stopped a t a late-night stand t o get a hotdog. I only took a couple of b i t e s from mine because I was still f u l l from the evening meal. I tossed i t i n a nearby garbage can. I was surprised when I saw a man dressed i n a real n ice su i t , go over, retr ieve the hotdog and eat it, showing not the least b i t of shame.

New York was so fascinat ing, especially a t night, w i t h i t ' s unending br igh t neon signs towering hSgh above the very 3 - moving ci ty . The g ian t stream o f l i g h t s t h a t decorated the Hudson Bridge was an unforgetable s ight . I t ' s allure created an exot ic fee l ing o f magic as we drove over it n ight ly t o v i s i t I

the fun- f i l l ed c i ty . We, too, had walked the shores o f A t lant ic Cjty, j u s t minutes away from the c i ty . I can s t i l l fee l the warm, wet gr i t ty sands surging between our toes.

. I From the sidewalk cafes came the zesty aromas of I t a l i a n g a r l i c f l a v o r e d foods combined wi th the tasteful1 smell o f ele- gant wines. Me would s i t and laugh, holding hands as we s ipped down the t i n g l i n g buds. The Chinese food i n New York i s the

3

best i n the world and we had dined a t h i s f a v o r i t e places i n quaint l i t t l e hideaways on the eastside. The hours f lew b y k q quick ly as I steadi ly dreamed of what my new l i f e was going t o be 1 i ke i n the big city. I gathered my- things together i n one hand and Mike i n the other as we entered the large sta t ion.

My s i s t e r spotted us in the noisy and crowded Grand Central Station. After the hugs and the greetings were over, we had to l i t e r a l l y push our way t o the outside. Novella said we would meet Howard i n Brooklyn. " I n Brooklyn?" I asked. Novel la assured me t h a t she knew nothing about the change i n the previ- ous plans. She had only an address Howard had given her. I asked no fu r ther questions; I jus t wanted t o sea hdm! The address 14 us t o a downtown dingy row o f century-old buildings. There was no Howard there! Dqsappointment showed i n the break i n my voice as I looked up and down the streets. Where could he be? We pushed open the b ig heavy doors and went inside.

"You must be the g i r l from North Carolina," spoke the young I gractous Jewish girl as she greeted us. She repl ied tha t Dr. I

Goldstein would be with us sho r t l y f o r the blood grouping. rn -

"A blood grouping?" I asked. "What is 1 t fo r? "

She went into details somewhat, saying tha t the t e s t could possibly determine i f the c h i l d and i t ' s assumed father had the same bood type. My s i s t e r and I looked a t each other i n hor r ib le d isbe l ie f . Could t h i s be Howard's doing?

Dr. Goldstein was a middle-aged man i n his middle f i f t i e s w i th a look o f d e f i n i t e German features. He viewed me vaguely and began asking some very personal questions, tw i s t i ng every answer I gave w i t h negative responses, He asked the nurse to take the ch i l d back. 1 held on t o Mike defensively. She assured me tha t the test was simple and would not hurt hjm a t a l l . She took h i s hand and l ed him from the room. Dr. Goldstein followed. Apprehensively I waited. Soon they returned t o the; . -s room. Mike had a sucker i n h i s hand as he rushed back t o my '

side. Dr. GoldsteSn handed me a white piece o f paper and t o l d me the results would be sent to Superior Court and that I must be there for the hearing.

I d i d n o t see Howard u n t i l four days l a te r . It was a t the closed session o f cour t f n Brooklyn t h a t I f i n a l l y saw him. He s a t q u i e t l y and unresponsive i n the a i s l e across from me. I viewed t h i s st range man from head t o toe. 1 d id not know t h i s man. He was not the Howard t h a t I had remembered. The session was a b r i e f one. The blood grouping came out i n my favor. Howard mumbled some words under h i s breath and returned t o h i s seat quickly.

I f e l t no v i c to ry i n the summation. A t e r r i b l e sense o f re jec t ion filled me leaving me dazed. I tried t o speak and regain cont ro l o f myself, but the lumps i n my th roa t were hard t o ignore or swallow. The lawyer stopped Howard t o g i ve him some l a s t m i n u t e Instruct ions. I used t h a t time t o compose myself as best I could. When the lawyer l e f t 1 decided tha t I may as wel l try t o speak t o Howard. After a l l , we had come a

C long way for t h i s ! ! Slowly 1 walked over t o him and introduced Mike. H is momentary interest consisted o f a mere, "Hi , Buddy. II Mike reached aut fo r him automatically, expecting t o be embraced, only t o be turned away by h i s abrupt move t o keep him a t a dis- tance. He acted as i f maintaining a clean s u i t was more irnpor- tant ' than ge t t ing tomknow h i s son. I was appalled a t h i s indig- nant and self-centered at t i tude.

I was so h u r t and devastated t h a t I wanted t o lash ou t 1 a t him! Mot so much f o r me, but for the innocent c h i l d we had brought i n t o t h i s world. He would be the one t o su f fe r f rom o u r unresponsibf e acts! Suddenly I f e l t an overpowering need t o run, but where would I go? Horganton sounded l i k e heaven. That ' s what 1'1 7 do. 1 '1 1 go home! It dawned on me tha t I had no money. How was I t o get home? I: forgot my pride and asked him for some money. Reluctant ly he reached fo r h i s wallet and handed u s a few b i 11s. By then I had began to cry profu- I

s ively. Mike sensing something must be wrong began t o cry also. I1 I bent down t o comfort him. Don't cry. Mommy wi 11 take you

home," I had spoken ou t loud.

Howard took one l a s t long glance a t h is c h i l d before he headed f o r the door. For a moment I thought he was about t o change his mind. Then he sped out the door and down the cf t y streets. I stood on the corner and watched him till he disap- peared from view. I stood t h e r e speechless, tears b l i nd ing my

I

One S t e p Forward

by Matthew Harper

One step forward, double back, Dark horizon, fu ture bf ack , Path before met raw and grim, Growing tired, chances slim.

And when I thought my hear was l o s t , Freedom stolen, mind* tempest: tossed* I bechmced upon a second view, A spark of light, the l i g h t was you.

The knowledge took away the f r i g h t , For there is one who shares my p l i g h t * And though t h a t we may suffer, same, On one day, soon we'll a l lo t the gain,

.And we'll leave the others t o the i r shame, The ones who t r i ed restrafnt in vain

And so my f r i end , 'till w e met again, Hold fast to t h e ever rising cord, Move up! Not back. One s t e p forward.

A i n ' t the A n t

by John Travis Holt

I l i v e i n a hole, a p i t ful l o f rocks and sand. My f r i e n d s are ants, they had me. I hate t h i s hole i n the

- ground. I h a t e t h i s a n t h i l l mound. I protest I! j. against my fe l low kitchen pest, the pee bra in , pee

wee, p iss ant, Oh yes, I have s i x legs and my body par ts are round but, a t heart I ' m an a r t i s t , star o f stage and sound. I love t o sing and dance l i t t l e j i g s . I love t o . . .. Well i t doesn't matter much, a n t s don ' t care for such. They pre fe r t o ea t and store and e a t some more. So I have decided t o go and seek my dreams. Forever, I have lived i n t h i s hole i t seems. I can see it now up i n l i g h t s , l i v e l i v i n g star ; WOW! King o f the h i l l , glamorous ant star; what a t h r i l l . They w i l l cal l me black beauty, the ebony entertainer. Well t h i s i s it, thjs i s the b ig day. As I crawl towards the l i g h t and poke my head out, "Oh Ant God What a s ight !" The world i s so b ig and I'm as t iny as an ant. Can I make i t , can t h i s be r e a l ; help me understand what I fee l . Were a l l my dreams unreal? Is the sun always t h i s br ight? Is day always before night? "Hey you!'t I hear, "you stupid an t get out of the way. I got a p i c i k i n i ' for 1 unch today." This f l a t ant pushes and shoves me out o f the way. He steps on my new seed she1 1 shoes. He messes up my feeler do. 1 fa1 1 broken dreamed, j u s t broken, t o the floor o f the " P i t . " Maybe I am j u s t an ant i s what I am. O r maybe I am a singing ant, a dancing ant, a show b i z ant ! I know! I am a side show ant. 1 will sing and dance on a side show i n a f l e a circus for people who l i k e t h a t stuff . It's great , i t ' s so clear. I will overcome my fear 'cause I a i n ' t no . . . no . . . pic1 k i n i ' ant or d i r t hole queen. I a i n ' t no regular ant.

Mirror Surf ace

by Ken Jamison

The sun, hanging by i t s i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g j u s t beyond the h i l l s and trees, admires i t s e l f as it moves slowly across the mirror face o f the water's surface. Crickets play t h e i r orches- t ra ted concert i n the d l stance, dancing the. evening* away among the forests of grass a t the pond's edge. F lu f fy white dragans, castles and damsels i n d ist ress f loat by l az i l y , following the sun i n t o the night. Close by a frog and h i s mate converse about d a i l y matters, churp-churp-churping away i n the waning daylight. Suddenly, the echos o f voices . . . two men running on the grav- el ly gray -path beyond the pond, speaking of matters of health and f i tness. Their sounds flee with them, as they disappear around the bend, i n t o the trees, Three ducks and a drake are quack-quacklng as they waddle about discussing who w i 11 go where and what they will do once they ar r ive . They thrust themselves I n t o the water sending r ings o f disturbance across the otherwise smooth surface of the lake. Single f i l e they go, almost march- ing t o the beat o f ethereal drums, the i r shining, wet blacks and whites deta i led by the l i g h t o f the se t t ing sun.

Sparrows about i n the sky, mocking the clouds, teasing the tree tops, chasing the sunset, they cas t t i n y r e f l e c t i o n s below as the somber pond watches serenely, eyes looking forever upward. A stray calf steps carefully about i n the f i e l d beyond, munching on t a s t y weeds to i t s heart's content. I t l i f t s i t s head slowly and regards the sparrows, many of them, hundreds now. They spiral around i n gleeful columns, chirping t o the words of an ancient birdsong, dipping here and there i n the water, breaking the calm f l a t surface everywhere. '

And perhaps they take time t o see the silent f igure a t the edge of the wooden structure on the side o f the pond. Maybe they wonder at the way he scribbles wjth h i s magic s t i c k on the curi0u.s pad o f white leaves. Perhaps they do wonder, but if they do, then it i s a l l but forgotten when he leaves, f o r they are content i n the dance i n the sky . . .

Love

by Jayne S. Peeler

Love smiled at me today

From the depths of soft brown eyes$

And it laughed with m e over some s i l l y thought

That danced through a small boy's mind.

Love wrapped its warmth in a c h i l d i s h grinr

And gave it to me with joy;

And it shone in the toss of cornsdlk hair

On a carefree l i t t l e boy.

Love shared its promise with m e today

I n the touch of a hand small and warm;

And it kissed me w i t h g e n t l e innocence;

And s a i d , 'I 1 ove you, Mom. "

by John Travis H o l t

by Kenny Jamimon

by Lee Lunn

14

T r u t h Towa

by Darrell F. Camby

Therers a town at the

end of the mad.

It's so wonderful ~t

a l l can 't be t d d .

If you make it and

realize you'll see,

I'm not you, where's the

truth? You're not iie.

There's Maf n Street with

burning l i g h t s of f ire.

To catch your attention

and increase your desire.

Vesire to reveal the t r u t h

held inside.

I'm not you., you're not met

What else is there to hide?

B l a m e It On t h e Midnight

by Lee Lunn

We walked t h e path of r ich i n t r i g u e

Un ti1 t h e crossroads sprang before you and me.

You chose your road and I mine.

So w e split t o search for roses

Never th inking of t h e thorns

Something beyond the norm.

Blame it on the midnight Horizons beyond our s i g h t s Shall w e forever roam Souls on t h e loose?

If by chance our paths run t h e same gambit once again

We'll be more commonplace in each other's eyes and ask acceptance in our own place.

Too Much

by Darrell F. Camby

It's another hazy day, It's another crazy way, To escape from reality's unending clutch. Are things as crazy as they seem? P1 ease tell me it 's only a dream. Am I too high? Is f t r too late for me to break free? Lonely hours spent alone, Sitting staring at t h e wal l . Crazy thoughts screaming through my head. It r e a l l y hurts to feel thf s way. To l e t my mind just go astray, 1 must be crazy. I hope 1'11 see another day. As 1 sit here w i t h speech impaired, My thoughts I ' d , love to share. &It f can't seem to get them out of my head.

Communication w i t h someone I hate , 1 pray it 's not too late, T i l l I can be free, I w a n t to come down! I face r e a l i t y once again. In nty mind I know it's a sin. But apathy seems to a1 ways take i t 's t o l l . I turn around to go my own way, I ' l l be back again someday. Please don' t forget me. I won't be gone that long.

Please bend t h e needles! &fore I change my mind. Please bend the needles! Before I trip on out of time. I can't stand it no more, PI ease show me t h e exi t door. I've got t o find it r i g h t away, I just don't know if I ' l l see another day.

[ U n t i t l e d ]

by Dale Murray

I saw a man, h i s brown hands Leaves outstretched t o the sun, The strong sinews ready grasp Its rays like straws to h i s chest.

I saw a woman, white hands Beseeching t h e unwary sun, Beguil f ng wi t h t h e i r softness Whfle her skfn drank up i ts warmth.

I saw a woman, w h i t e hands The earth a cinder in its heat, And m a n , woman, earth and sun Renewed in t h a t I n s t a n t .

Dear SAELE

( sa t i re )

D M ~ S*, 1 ma vmg mu& in love w d h

a young m a n d o h 4- d&g amone &e at nchool, I ~ ~ J ? y M ~ ~ ~ iQgdhm, and h i4 abLting 4 W . q - qe h p1an.h 20 *Ma& a new man" 0Lb.t 08 kina. I w fiat h2 iid j& wonde/L- ~ f h e ~ ~ / L e - i d . & can 1 d i d w i i h U P P h e w

B - e

Dear Beverly, I realize t h a t you are

hurt ing and apparently you fee l t h a t t h i s young man's new g i r l f r i end i s degrading him w i t h her plans t o "make a new

, mantt out o f him. FORGET ALL ABOUT TELLING HIM! Knowledge is power. Keep him i n the dark. The chances that anyone other than someone who r e a l l y loves him w i l l have the guts t o inform him of her be1 it- t l i n g are very slim. Let him f ind out on h i s own.

Next, reassess what you think of t h i s wonderful man.

h Make a l i s t o f h i s worse points; if you honestly th ink t h a t he has no noticeable ones, make them up. A good way t o do t h i s i s t o a t t r i b u t e him with a l l the things t h a t you do not l i k e i n people i n

general. Take a t least a half-hour a day t o work on t h i s list and wr i te i t over and over untf 1 you s t a r t t o be l ieve it.

You could a l s b consider e n l i s t i n g the h e l p o f fr iends, abducting them, take them some place quiet, t i e them i n chairs, and swat them with a foam bat while telling them how you feel u n t i l you have exhausted your hurt and anger.

Y i t h best wishes, Sal la

DW S&, 1 m 22 y e a o&. 1

huve noi b A G X ~ ~ & d i v e in ;two y w md a*Lfh A I S &CGVL& 1 caNida! omcomi my kdu&mm da h p kl.ith my- one. 1 hwa A p p d a d e a &wd Qk3WI.b J%d ih ,!.&At f i g * Llg Lo do LA necrke o d * &! &himh & go on w.& 2he.i~ CIA

i h g h e & 2 h ~ k a n d . I m z &ginni.rg $0 2 A d h = J Z &

i . 4 ao-g w a g l i l t 5 Il%e. Pm

Dear Pam, Buck up, Baby1 You a r e

just smarter than most. Few people r e a l i z e what a

beaut i fu l aspect o f l i f e celibacy can be. I will suggest several things t h a t may make celibacy easier. F i r s t , do not exercise! There has been a direct correlation shown between physical acti- v i t y - and sexual desire. Do not read love or romance books. Do not watch love, romance, or sexual ly e x p l i c i t movies. Remember, that w i t h i n the next decade, there will be mandatory AIDS testing. You a1 ready have the worse behind you. Contrary t o popular opinion, the longer you remain celibate, the eas'ler it becomes. Most o f a l l , always. love yourself more t h a n you love others. We have to SURVIVE to keep t h i s world spinning,

Good luck, S a l l e

Dean Sac, & o d i#o moK&b ago 1

&dcE up ldah my g u 4 y k m i 08 oum &o g m and my pwumb mmz m d u p a d kecmhe ?hq h d g ~ m . v e q d o ~ e t o h. Since 2hvz1 I ' met a g at a cQnV-a &m. S&, 1 would l o w t o i a b hen home io d m y m o 2 h . m t u t d # d b , ~ SR * a i d .they u ~ 0 . t

a/r/;move. @ &dt g b d + h m d

w a q! a v a g p m m i w d + h G g and fhi43 g i l d i .4 XYLe d g L l g h h of a a&-& diuoa- md WO& at a lo& &&-,hod m d a m d . Sin= I am a # a ,

U - i u - d a # m i d g &o, I k n w ,

p m d ~ U no2 f i e a%& g x * Ccus gou

R i c h B d Poon in D~nven

Dear Rich, I've been mulling over your

problem for several days and have derfsed a solution. I am unsure of the reason for your f I r s t break-up, but whatever excuse you told your parents, tell them it was a l i e and refuse t o ta lk about i t fo r several days. Then tell them you have s~methlng important to say and they had better s i t down. Inform them you are homosexual end that you have a bayfriend, but would rather n o t mention h i s name. I renl'ire this will be a shock to thmr but all i s not lost. Bring home your new g i r l - frtend a few weeks la te r and inform your parents t h a t you are i n love. Let me t e l l you, they w i 11 be so glad that you have changed preferences. they w j 1 l ptobably s t a r t di scussS ng which minister should perform the ceremony .

S a l l e

by Teresa Baynes

22

The Secret S o c i e t y of t h e Hidden Disease

b y Lee Lunn

We're memDers of the SBcret Society , A Brotherhood of Fear, Members in good standing, have no doubt! - Yes, I ' l l tell you about itt so l e t me Begin.

The Hidden Disease is what i t ' s dl about. Resentments and anger are our closest: f r i e n d s .

, Along w i t h self -pity and doubt, A manifestation from within Stuffing all those secrets and fears A1 ong w;ith the tears,

We're different you say--but you haven 't you heard t We cannot feel. That comes d o n g wi th the deal . V l c t i m s of our fear And more than we should--we pay our dues Members of the Secret Society, always true.

The masks we've worn are so tattered and torn. We'll dance and play and n o t let you know, That inside i t ' s so dark and cold. The hollow eyes are a good s ign Of, the Djseaae tha t r i d d l e s our mind. The Secret Disease has taken its toll.

Alone and isolated we f i v e in our heads. Loneliness wi th whom we share our bedst We are t h e liars that have the t r u t h . Our w i t s and w i l l are how we survive t Wlthout commitment we w i l l surely die. The Secret Disease s i c k and cold.

Un ti1 the quiet desperation someday 9

Leads us out to the end of the road. The Secret Society w i l l be here u n t i l We work w i t h the Shepherd And submit to &is w i l l ; For we are the f r i ends and children of B i l l .

GaugaSn, t h e Legacy

by Lee Lunn

A t t i m e s t h e tooth he barely wet his ego shining through.

The woods he so meticulously carved, 'the s p i r i t a1 ways there r

Left to show us dl just how much he really cared.

A t h i e f , some people would call himr a beggar and a cbea t .

But he left us a l l more than he ever b~rrowed*

Everlasting the legacy to YOU md

Man of ego, s p i r i t and might he saw through t h e rubble and left to do h i s f i g h t .

Alone at t i m e s * he pondered his p l i g h t , never turning face, he stole through the l o n e l y n i g h t s .

A t last be lay down h i s mighty sword

One more batt le alone to f i g h t

God, It gave him such a f r i g h t .

One last canvas--he must complete before t h e angels

Lay down to touch his feet.

I%e has taken h i s part in the big sleep never more to w e e p

His wounds dl healed no more cancerous sores,

The beauties, , He lef t for our hungry eyes,

youxs and mine H i s populeri t y greater still

t e l l s t h e story of t h e legacy SQ large he left for you and me.

Gaugain, t h e m a n , t h e s p i r i t so bright.

Uhen Moving Under Asphalt

by John Trav is Ho l t

Sweat rolls down my face. The a i r i s s tuf fy , l i k e a hot summer's day. The f l o o r rumbles as l i g h t s f lash by. My thoughts dr-ift away and anxiety qu ie t l y sleeps i n my throat. My eyes are the only windows i n t o th is world of i l l u s i o n , t h i s passageway i n t o wonderland. Every night, as I trave l the dark tunnels t o my home, I am awakened again and again by the people o f the subway. Some s i t q u i e t l y on v i o l e n t l y torn seats. Others stand hovering and swaying w i t h arms reachi ng upward grasping 1 eather straps or r a i 1 i ng. "Cough, cought' rattles through the c o l o r f u l gray of the boxcar. Never have so many empty spaces f i l l e d such a crowded area. This t r i p from where I have been t o where I am going has never been so f u l l o f contradict ions. A man can th ink alone and t o himsel f w i th a hundred other people s i t t i n g i n h i s head. The wheels g r ind and wh i s t l e t o a stop. The doors o f g r a f f i t i s l i d e open. I s i t fac ing the people as they slowly f i l t e r out. Only a few remain seated and only a few j o i n us. The subway can change l i k e a chameleon f rom stop t o stop. The car i t s e l f i s cold and Ii feless, much 1 i ke an empty carcass on a locust she1 1, The people give the subway personal i ty and l i f e . Every night f o r a year I have observed t h i s transformation and nothing bores me here. The n igh t people have, a t last, pushed upward and out o f t h e i r dwell ings and i n t o my l i f e . My mind becomes impregnated with these 1 a s t i ng observations and from t h i s seed o f d i v e r s i t y and human nature grows a man more aware o f himself.

T sit quie t ly holding my hat. I try t o be unnoticed i n t h i s sea o f i l l u r i o n . A lady i n black moves i n throwing a fake f u r around her shoulders. She g l ides through the g r a f f i t i doors as does a princess entering a ballroom. Her h a i r i s tucked neat ly under a white dinner hat. A whispery black vell covers her face. She removes white gloves from delicately aged hands. Only for a second does t h i s v i s i o n 1 inger before she has declared her space and seated herself. She readjusts her v e i l while searching through her purse. She grasps a pink t issue and s l ides i t under her lace disguise. She i s followed by a common man i n a white t-shirt. H i s ' h a i r i s s l icked back t o portray an almost d is t i n -

i g u i s h d statement, though i t i s destroyed by the vacant look i n h i s eyes. He seats himself almost de7 i bera te ly beside Lady Lace.

I

The rumbling grows louder as the t r a i n gr inds and scratches the rai 1 dragging us away i n t o flashing 1 ights and sol i tude.

The man looks a t the woman and i n h i s mind draws a l l o f the r i g h t conclusions and says t o her, "You know, about a year ago, I used t o l i v e i n a town called Winsburg." She composes herself, takes a breath, and gives a polite nod. He takes this as a s ign o f jn te res t and continues, "I worked i n an orchard." Lady Lace i s s ta r ing dead ahead. "I used t d kill moles," he boasts. She moves her body uncomfortably searching around the boxcar with her eyes. "I had to kll l them; they were a problem."

She 1 ooks a t him frustrated and sarcas t ica l ly - says, "I wonder why?"

He pauses, looks dead panned, and tells her, "Moles made holes i n the orchard."

She inquires deeper asking, "Did you have t o k i l l them? Don't you th ink they served a purpose?"

I1 NO^" he recollects, they serve no purpose, but t o g ive me a job."

She replies t o him cendescendingly, "God created everything on earth with a purpose. Were the moles not created by God?''

"Well yes," he says, "but they were just moles."

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, spouting, I t God made moles w i t h a purpose. God put moles i n the orchard for a purpose. God had a reason for t h i s and you k i l l e d them. You i n t e r f e r r e d w i t h God's purpose. i t

'It was my job."

"But, moles have a purpose. t I

I1 The common man considers t h i s philosophy, then turns t o Lady Lace and boastfully repl ies, "My mother once had a mole on her face and had it burned o f f ."

The train rolls t o a stop. I move out, clearing the crash o f the doors j u s t i n time. X stand i n the stat ion, the empty station. The t r a i n pulls out moving by me like a ride an a merry-go-round. I am never albne because I have a hundred people s i t t i n g i n my head.

by Teresa Haynes

7 h ciwi%& Wnitirtg Uu4 and s w a St&