Wanted: Someone To Write An Ode to a Urinal

Is there no one in Minnesota who can handle the job?

To fit their screens. Join us, and disappear

Into this bleached cinema.

 

"So 1999"
BY BAO PHI

I was the one who dug my hands deep into Powderhorn Park,

Waited for a million rainy days to fill your pond,

That wavering manmade moon sitting silver

Amongst soccer balls kicked

by beautiful people in varying shades

of our own dusky color.

The water silent as young lovers, secrets unspoken,

keep their balance walking along its lip,

bouquets of fireworks highlighting their way.

But then I woke up, taking the bus home

From work, my shoes soaked with soap suds

my hands wrinkled from a thousand first dates

Washed away from dinner plates,

I step off the bus, not knowing where to go,

Standing still as a man made pond.

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