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Gleanings         Ocean Grove, NJLook at the two of them, bentto the early morning tide.Culling glass from the gritty surf.Strange and wonderful alchemists,who search for the elusive blueof medicine bottles, caressingemerald imitators from “Old Latrobe,”or amber sea urchinsleft there like whelks at low tide.They discard broken bits of crockery,forsaken jetsam of the sands.Beach glass is opaquewith a false clarity:Polished by sand and sea,the edges don’t cutlike our lives, lived elsewhere,out beyond the last sandbar,where plate tectonics rule the waves. — Scott Edward Anderson, author of Fallow Field

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Gleanings
         Ocean Grove, NJ

Look at the two of them, bent
to the early morning tide.
Culling glass from the gritty surf.
Strange and wonderful alchemists,
who search for the elusive blue
of medicine bottles, caressing
emerald imitators from “Old Latrobe,”
or amber sea urchins
left there like whelks at low tide.
They discard broken bits of crockery,
forsaken jetsam of the sands.
Beach glass is opaque
with a false clarity:
Polished by sand and sea,
the edges don’t cut
like our lives, lived elsewhere,
out beyond the last sandbar,
where plate tectonics rule the waves.
 
— Scott Edward Anderson, author of Fallow Field

"The Horribly Tragic Deaths of Many of My Favourite Characters"
In the spirit of Edward Gorey, this is a series of illustrations and poems that chronicles the concocted demise of Sara Barkat’s favorite (favourite?) literary and movie characters.
Poem 2: Kirk, Spock & DocKirk, Spock and Bones were riding on a plane,Spock just died and Kirk was slain.Bones got up to see if they were dead,and then he was clubbed in the back of the head.
Poem and illustration by Sara Barkat, age 16.

"The Horribly Tragic Deaths of Many of My Favourite Characters"

In the spirit of Edward Gorey, this is a series of illustrations and poems that chronicles the concocted demise of Sara Barkat’s favorite (favourite?) literary and movie characters.


Poem 2: Kirk, Spock & Doc

Kirk, Spock and Bones were riding on a plane,
Spock just died and Kirk was slain.
Bones got up to see if they were dead,
and then he was clubbed in the back of the head.


Poem and illustration by Sara Barkat, age 16.