fall 2013
Table of Contents
Return to Home Page
The New Old Voice
Jenni B. Baker
For the Directions The Future of Music Jen Currin
You Should Grow a Moustache William Doreski
The Unmanageable, A Cure Colin James
Engineering Processing Craig Kurtz
Brother Ellen MacDonald-Kramer
What Seems Solid Karen Neuberg
City Life: Citizen City Life: Summer Parties Laura Ritland
My son watching me smoke Sarah Roebuck
Testing Testing Is This Thing On
Russel Swensen
Pitcher Scales Russell Thornton


The New Old Voice
Found poem from the New York Times article "So Many Snapshots, So Few Voices Saved." by Verlyn Klinkenborg (12/29/12)
In a silent house, I walk around
playing myself like a new bassoon:
vibrating at first a few graveled
sounds from an earlier self—
I remember strangers and regret,
my voice lost in their thicket—
a missing timbre grows thin
into something more sonorous
(I am at once a Lincoln tenor
and resounding Wordsworth)
and then I don't quite know
what comes out of my mouth
but a deafening, extraordinary roar
of nothing to damp or obstruct.
Capture, record this while you can;
you will want to hear me again.
(Say, what would we know now
if we could hear Cleopatra?)
When I am voiceless and vanished,
the sound alone will say everything.