| This Edition's Poetry |
In the crowd of men
Monsters walking in the crowd of men
nobody notices
a gargoyle
with granite skin and grotesque fangs
drops a twenty into a beggar's cup
a demon
skin aflame,
asphalt bubbling in his footsteps
stops to listen to a busker play saxophone
swaying and bopping to the beat.
The monsters are the men.
I dream of pulsating machine guns
bullets small smooth perfect deadly
of dynamite
And walk in the crowd of men.
-for Seung-Hui Cho
by Geoffrey Landis
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