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BUP Poetry Contest 2nd Place | Adam Tamashasky

DETAILS

For a summer, I was a painter,
By which I mean I bought acrylics
And starter pack of brushes
And some 12×16 canvases
And I started looking.
Details, I thought, were the essential bit–
The way O'Keefe saw curved canyon walls
Or Hopper, afternoon New England sunlight.
So that month I went hunting for details,
And I found dusk's blazing gold
around green leaves' toothed […]

By |August 2nd, 2019|bup|

BUP Poetry Contest 3rd Place | Jonathan Lewis

The Rescue

When the old tourist collapsed
at the Smithsonian metro stop,
it must have been a terrifying descent:

tumbling down the escalator, backwards,
hat flown off and white hair flowing,
hurtling toward a harrowing crash.

But we all leapt forward: commuters
with our bags and backpacks flailing;
we rushed up to him like a mighty wave.

Absorbing the shock of a falling body,
grasping for […]

By |August 2nd, 2019|bup|

BUP Poetry Contest Honorable Mention | Kateema Lee

Warmer Days

Today there’s a polar vortex; I remember
when the only thing to fear was a bee sting
or the pain of peeling skin from too much sun.

Today it’s frozen corneas and confusing
cable news. Sure, I can turn it off, turn up
the heat, pretend outside is balmy, 80 degrees

in the shade. I could refuse to look outside;
I […]

By |August 2nd, 2019|bup|

BUP Poetry Contest 1st Place | Summer Hardinge

Navigating Fault Lines

Some believe one day California will crack, fall
into sea. From above, it looks entirely possible,
the land cuts an angular silhouette, undulates
mountains, skirts bay and ocean.

In a more ancient story, Poseidon wielded his triton,
struck Earth, tremors erupted, bridges collapsed, roads
changed course, buildings toppled, thousands lost.

Lately I’ve encountered my own fault lines:
a trembling building, fear […]

By |August 2nd, 2019|bup|

BUP Poetry Contest Honorable Mention | Karie Evans

It smelled like planting lima beans in damp dirt

It was second grade.
We checked the paper cups each morning,
eagerly awaiting the first fresh, new sprout.
It was us, we created that.

It smelled like no-tear strawberry L’Oréal shampoo,
washed in and out of our soft hair,
untouched by puberty. It smelled like clean linens,
fresh from the dryer that Mom wrapped […]

By |August 2nd, 2019|bup|