I’m going to vanish any day
It’s not a question of if
But
Of in what way
Over time or in the blink of an eye?
You’ll look for me, but I’ll be gone
Call out my name, but in vain
I’m preoccupied in blissful sigh

And I’m going to move on
To greater things
Leave behind this world of suffering
Cash in my chips to see what I’ve compiled
I’m going to miss you all too much
But what a trade, what a deal
That body of mine?
It was such a crutch

I’m going to be buried 6 feet underground
Still somehow I’ll be amid all sights and sounds
I’ll embody them
And bless those alive
With unrelenting joy and peace
But for now
I’ll settle on being one of those blessed
Until this throbbing decides to cease

I’m going to vanish any day

Christmas comes but once a year, all about the single Savior we seek
But deadline comes steadily once every week.
From the front page to sports, A & E to opinion to features
Lauren Sawyer directs each faithful Sojourn creature.
Molly Meyer stands true to her task, managing by Sawyer’s side
Taking each story idea without breaking her stride.
The editors arrange for said stories, rewriting and making marks of every stripe
Pyle, Porter and Sharp ensuring every story picked is ripe.
Stoff, Spencer and Middelkamp feed them from the front lines, discussing arts, games and divisions
Filling column inches with grace and precision.
Graham handles stylings in design, using Towler and Krupp to weigh sections in the scales
Ensuring good eye flow and taste always do prevail.
Out with the cameras are Gales and Mack – prowling the sidelines, f-stops, every IWU hill and dale
Choosing carefully their pixels, crops and grayscales.
Over on the Web are Page and Bridgman, taking care of the virtual version
Wordpressing each article with digital immersion.
Keeping the presses hopping with ads is CrizVaun, a Dixie from Marion’s south side
Going like 60 to keep up with the advertisers’ tide.
Finally, there is Huckins, their adviser, seeking to guide and defend the paper’s bastion
Loving each minute with a staff full of journalistic drive and passion.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from The Sojourn!

“You know you deserve someone who loves you,” —
Buddy knocked a cigarette out of its
pack and lit it in two clicks — “someone who
loves you back.” He settled into the booth,
taking slow, long drags of the cigarette.

I hear but cannot force myself to take
his advice. It’s not what I want. Not yet.
I prefer the silence — just the sound of
his breath, the finger-drums on the table.

“Remember how much of an b—- she is.”
I sit back in the booth, cross my arms and
try to remember, try to remember —

But instead I imagine it is she
in front of me: smoking and consoling.

I don’t want to be the door’s way out
I don’t want to be the window’s view
I don’t see any harm
And no need for alarm
If all I want is to be closer to you
Close enough to feel your heart beat
As a child without daydreams, visions or goals
I’ve found myself a reason to rise
To get out of bed,
Separate pillow from head
A reason to just open my eyes
‘Cause I can’t see your face with my head in bed sheets
We see all these challenges
But also chances to succeed
If not by your side
Where the hell am I to be?
I hope and I pray
Knowing that you’re doing the same
If God’s grace continues
Then that’s all we’ll ever need
The best part may be is that I don’t have to think
That you may not feel the same as me
‘Cause if what I feel is true,
Then you’re feeling it too.
Symmetrical is such a blessing to be.