c o n v e r g e n c e:
an online journal of poetry & art


by Paul Smith

My first brush with parallel lines
Was in grade school
A yellow tablet of writing paper
Where I wrote cursive
Frustrated by
Their limits
Or my fingers' restlessness
Soon after that
I stared at the windows
Of my parents' home
Framed in the heat of
Venetian blinds
Held tight by the
Twine of family love
Finally parallel lines
Offered an exit
Ribbons of rails
Taking me
To intersections
Traffic circles
And polygons
And I forgot one more
Sophomore year in Geometry
I learned
Parallel lines cross
Somewhere far away

LINES CONVERGE by Ruben Briseno Reveles

LINES CONVERGE by Ruben Briseno Reveles

by Steven D. Pace

Atheists say heaven-going is flaky.
Ah, but Isaac found escape
Out there in that burning night more and more
Motion a— blur until blown out—
I mean— people burn out
At eighty-four

Lightning weird things happened to him.
Swinging the physics axe, he
Simmered in summertime
Sampled flavored ice & figs
Savored vermicelli

Mr. Newton had no children
so there was no one to whip.

Yet he never knew intelligent astronauts.
The ones who peer down at the rainforest through
Spacesuits as god does belligerent dances
Their spacecraft in a barbecue
Roll while drinking Tang

Y'know, Mr. Newton never married.
I call it The San Francisco Moon Walk, sonny
He must've feared polyester dress
Or being covered in ash by the Golden Mother
His last days darkened
Via kidney stones and mercury

by Milton P. Ehrlich

Legend reveals
a Zen monk named
cut off his eyelids
to prevent falling asleep.
When he threw his eyelids
on the ground— tea leaves grew
that kept all the monks awake.
He then taught them Kung Fu.

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