Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from DuPage College of https://archive.org/details/prairielightrevi281coll_1 The Light Review Prairie - 2007 Volume XXVIII, No. Fall I Deep-Fried Twinkles Truffles for a weary soul or just the bone-deep fatigue from bills in the mail, dents in the car, my poop in the yard, sugar in urine, murder in the suburbs, scandal in Washington, madness in Iraq, foolishly lost love... take a dozen to go I’ll —William Vollrath The Editorial Staff Editor-in-Chief Associate Editor Amanda Campos Gloria Fazio Production Editor Assistant Editors Brian Larsen Vincent Aim David Fairbairn Internal Marketing Editor Sarah Froelich Andrew Kathy Villagomez Cornillie Rachel Wiegmann Advisor Liz Whiteacre Volunteer Jason Retuta Letter from the Editor Gloria Fazio This completes my third semester with Prairie Light Review, my first as Editor-in-Chief and by far my most challenging. The challenges came in the form of truly great submissions, both written and visual, and the difficult task of choosing which pieces to publish. The editorial staff is to be commended for its hard work and dedication to this process. Thanks also to our volunteerJason Retuta for designing PER posters and flyers! Overall, it was a great semester, and I look forward to working on the spring edition. I especially want to thank our advisor, Liz Whiteacre, for her calming presence, unwavering support, and total dedication to Prairie Light Review. With her guidance, we have raised awareness of our magazine, which resulted In a record number of submissions received this semester. Thanks so much for all you do, Liz! We Invite You... We invite you to participate in a Reader Survey at our web site WWW.prairielightreview.com. Please visit our site and click on the survey link, so we can learn more about you. Special Thanks... This publication could not be made without the generous support of many people. The staff would like to thank Meri Phillips, Chris Raposa, Stephanie Jaco and the Student Activities Office; Cathy Stablein; the College of DuPage Library; Dr. Wendolyn Tetlow, Dr. Sheryl Mylan, Dr. Beverly Reed, Deb Secara and the Liberal Arts Division Office; Dr. Picard our Vice President of Academic Affairs and Dr. Sunil Chand our President. Submissions... We welcome original works of short fiction, nonfiction, poetry, photography and 2-D and 3-D artwork of any media from students, faculty, staff and the District 502 community. All submissions are anonymously reviewed twice a year for fall and spring issues. Guidelines for the presentation of your work and letters of authenticity may be found online at www.prairielightreview.com. Questions? Contact [email protected] or 630-942-2733. The Prairie Light Review 1 Table of Contents Needless — Needless digital collage Jason Retuta Cover — Deep Fried Twinkles poetry William Vollrath Title Page — Feckless Replies poetry William Vollrath 1 — Garage Saling poetry Jason Snart 2 — Egyptian Mau illustration Rachel Wiegmann 3 — Bathing Goose b&w photography Shawn Farnsworth 4 — Snowman poetry Megan Sobotka 5 — What Found Nature poetry in I Laura Yeakey 6 — Will She Land? poetry Mardelle Fortier 7 — Directions for Use and Care poetry Jason Snart 8 — Skater Transformed poetry Mardelle Fortier 9 — Night a Zebra With Golden Eyes poetry is Mardelle Fortier 10 — Homemaker poetry Gangas Patricia 1 — Tennis and Texas Hold ‘Em poetry Patricia Gangas 12 — Mama Miss poetry I Carol Osburn 13 Needless — Torzolo the Street-Organ Monkey poetry Jim Hayden 14 — b&w Untitled photography Robyn Byrd 15 — b&w Untitled photography Veronica Shukin 16 — Was Around Midnight prose It Joshua Cooper 17 — Bed of Pearls prose Heidi Koos 18 — To Christopher Columbus - Your Fifth Voyage and Beyond poetry Wilda Morris 19 — Black Satin poetry Mardelle Fortier 21 — Silky Satiny Sheets poetry Jeannine Messina 22 — The Borders poetry Michele Bowers 23 — Toby the Turtle poetry Patricia Gangas 26 — Untitled haiku Robert Kulys 26 — Wisconsin prose Heidi Koos 27 — Survivor color photography Steve Van Dyke 31 — Cellar Door and Duct, Hinsdale, IL color photography Andrew Cornillie 32 — Back Alleyway, Hinsdale, IL color photography Andrew Cornillie 33 — Coral Reef painting Michael Carter 34 J. iv The Prairie Light Review — Spring Bark color photography Aichen Ho 35 — Up Draft painting Richard Oberbruner 36 — Taxi!!! color photography Dot Whitmore 37 — Etching-Hank Shooting Magpies 1943 illustration David Beeching 38 — Those Eyes color photography Steve Van Dyke 39 — Stockhouse color photography Paul Yeager 40 — Loon Dance color photography Kelly Naus 41 — Faith color photography Robin Tryloff 42 — The Road Less Traveled color photography David Mayhew 43 — 360 color photography Paul Yeager 44 — Spiritual Me color photography Jennifer Cooper 45 — Experiment Copy color photography Jennifer Cooper 46 — Cigarette Lighter poetry Becky Maday 47 — Eclipse poetry Daniel Valdez 48 — Fallen Petals poetry Wilda Morris 49 — Pigeon poetry Amelia Kloskowski 50 — Sophie Lives on a Farm prose Heidi Koos 51 Needless V — Sweet Home Chicago b&w photography Tima Wehbe 53 — The Photo poetry Patrick Salem 54 — To the Crows poetry Wilda Morris 55 — Thunder poetry John Gordon 56 J. — Time poetry Jeannine Messina 57 — Your Face in the Crowd poetry Marise Fleurisca 58 — You poetry Patrick Salem 59 — Moon Tide poetry Tricia Cimera 60 — The Consumer’s Lament poetry Robyn Byrd 61 — Sudden Takeoff b&w photography Denis Hagen 62 — Green Farm Cupola b&w photography Larry Larson 63 — The Gag Reflex poetry Jason Snart 64 — Mrs. Nikki’s Cats prose Stephen H. Jansen 65 — USA b&w Main Street photography Sandra Falesch 67 — My Sock Drawer poetry In Kathleen Hernandez 68 — Conventional Love prose Patrick Salem 69 — Four Houses by a Hotel b&w photography Jennifer Guico 74 — Words of the Carrion Eaters poetry David S. Rubenstein 75 VI The Prairie Light Review — — — — . Feckless Replies William Vollrath We weren’t always this way We too want and need a soft touch and reassuring smile, like you the crisp, fresh air through the open morning window after a night of blissful intimacy, the deeply sought, dependable, faithful moments, nights of ardent desire fulfilled, of symphonic, orgasmic release But such nights became increasingly rare They became the exception, while the days of disquiet multiplied, filled with hurtful pokes and jabs from your sharp sticks fueled by too many insecurities brought forth from childhood into our fragile relationship Resigned surrender became fecklessness in your eyes Your sufficient man seemingly idealized as superman, not realman Not the flawed humanity, the reality as we are created, needing support and encouragement, needing second, even third chances Not we discouraged, frustrated creatures desperately seeking some nobility amongst the oxygen-sucking, energy-consuming E-mails, deadlines, road rages, constant crises, daily deaths of a toilsome today Honest angst of being less than perfect, prematurely and unfairly labeled fecklessness Interpreted as a lacking in love, real love you chose not to see and nurture, being blind to treasure just beneath a scarred surface left to mutate into a debilitating sad loneliness unnecessary and unwanted fecklessness in your eyes, or perhaps just cruelty’s bastard child for us each, and too many others. . Needless 1 Garage Saling Jason Snart Into a luminous Saturday morning that begins in the breakwater of bed-sheets, stirred by rudderless dreams, the sun sifts its way through the drapes that we bought at a two-for-one sale. The radio turned itself off around one in the morning, you hit me at two with a sandbag arm, defending yourself from your mother, or mine, or an exam you forgot was that day. So it’s about time, then, to collect the Saturday paper and let the dog loose so she can snuffle the grass, scratching the itch that’s dogged her for years. Now with the Classifieds, coffee, a highlighter pen, you eye like a pirate every location, from nearest to furthest, that will give up its furniture, baby clothes, too much to list, estate sales, multi-family, no dealers please. Your beautiful belief in something to find. What’s left but to count out some cash, mapquest a strategy, and cUmb in the car. But somehow I’m replacing a light bulb, so you spread mulch, the dog needs attention, our coffee’s gone cold—this carafe we bought keeps it warm! Let’s walk ‘round the block, the neighbors are out in the sun, what’s on our roof? Is that branches, where is the ladder we borrow a ladder. By ten in the morning, the landscape’s a desert. Just green lawns and trees, and freshly turned beds of hostas and peonies. Maybe a broken salad fork and spoon, a wagonless set of plastic wheels, a shirt from Black Jack’s Cruise and Casino, a pressboard desk for sale, We “as is.” missed it. You’ve tied your hair back, and worn weekend shorts, and the t-shirt you’ve had since high school, your old garden shoes. AU for a late morning frenzy of driving, laughing into the cool wind, looking at houses we’ll never afford. That one, too big, not pretty, like ours. Think of the taxes and of keeping it clean. 2 The Prairie Light Review