Daniel Elkins, Untitled
Tony Stark walks into the basement bash,
A commuter tells him his hair looks fake.
Tony tries to join the dancing,
But his “costume” intimidates,
The coupley couples who,
Have built a suit of iron for only two.
Tony talks to none in the drunk goggles line,
No one asks how he caught the ball just fine.
Nathan Smith, Untitled
It isn’t long before you become a mouse
Looking upon one large fabric bell.
The tulip has swelled to fill the room,
And the other dancers mince their steps to make way.
She has a radiance that blossoms like
Fireworks on white chocolate truffles.
Your gaze tilts back to catch an oyster’s jealousy
Balancing like frosting on the crested tower.
There’s a light that twinkles on that metal,
A star that stuffs shadows into the carpet floor,
And makes the ladies cast dark eyes down.
You have forgotten to notice the ballroom’s air—
How it shrunk with the granite columns
Right before your whisker nose
She, of course, is the cause—
An ivory tower of grace and beauty.
But despite all she could change, she chooses you.
Plucking you up with one gloved hand,
Bringing you from a mouse into a man.
Rachel Weinert, Untitled
I should know the woman in the red raincoat
Coming in from the rain,
At least that’s what she told me
With her concentrated gaze
And a gentle flourish.
Without her knowledge,
Tendrils of attention held us to her –
Where she moved,
Where she stood, stately –
She never sat down.
But the remnants of the severed connections stayed.
We all knew the woman in the red raincoat,
Though nameless she remained