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Volume I, Number 2 (Summer 2007)
ISSN 1934-4324

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NEW-CUE, Inc. is a non-profit, environmental education organization founded primarily to assist writers and educators who are dedicated to  enhancing  the public's awareness of environmental issues.




Carolyn Kelley

Carolyn A. Kelley is currently working on her Ph.D. in English at the University of Florida. She has her Master’s Degree in English and her Bachelor’s Degree in Writing Arts from the State University of New York at Oswego. Carolyn is from Chelmsford, Massachusetts.

“Dry Drown”

The more I know I know

I know nothing, No, Nothing

But I understand

How the Dry Drown called you


You shut it all off

When you turned it on

Artistry is in the act

Not the ink and paper


A fine metaphor

To work with gas

Conceit extraordinaire

A poetess to the last


Did you grab

A last morbid chuckle?

Or curse the last betrayal?

As you inhaled your cure?


Who snuffed the pilot?


Father Father




Kind vampires


With my Father too

It started in the toe

Jungle rot in Korea

Byproduct of his patriotism


He begged the doctors

Not to slice it off

You need a foot

To wear a boot


(You know this)


Unlike Yours

Who could not beat it

He told me

He willed it away


Mind over

Weakness Weakness




So, am I safer than you?


Your words are safe

Mine in peril

My words

Lose strength




Each beat Each breath

Each bleed

Each bed




After my show

When I have no meaning

Then I will mean more

Than ever


Did you know

By leaving the show?

You would only

Be more here?


Did you know

It was all lies?

Lies perpetuated by pearl-shelled

Girls who eat too much sugar


Force-fed Cinderella lies


Into cellulite globs

On their fat, matronly bodies

Did you know

They clucked their tongues?

Put white gloves

To fetid mouths


To whisper


Selfish Selfish






“The Stars”


Do you still study the stars?

They wink at you on your island home

You know all their names, like a careful

Father who has too many children


And you are their champion

You climb the apex of

White Mountain—the highest place on earth

To be close to them


I was your student

We lay on our backs in the moist dark of Hilo

The glow of your moon, your cigarette, your stars

You taught me to them


Do you remember when

You murdered me? It was daylight.

You had violet eyes—Only Elizabeth Taylor

Was supposed to have violet eyes


Do you remember when

You asked me where I wanted

The knife? “I want it to be gentle,” you said,

“Tell me where.”


I pointed, “Right there.”

If I must die, Then let it be by

The hand of a man

With Elizabeth Taylor’s eyes.


I remember the pain. And

The last images before letting go

Of the snow on Mauna Kea, And the void

In your violet eyes.


Do you still study the stars?






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