DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

Sauers, Ryan K.

The Prairie Light Review
Volume 39 | Number 2 Article 52
Spring 5-1-2017
How Insurance Adjusters Get their Game on
(Spam Poem)
Ryan K. Sauers
College of DuPage
Follow this and additional works at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in
The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact koteles@cod.edu.
Recommended Citation
Sauers, Ryan K. (2017) "How Insurance Adjusters Get their Game on (Spam Poem)," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 39 : No. 2 , Article
52.
Available at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol39/iss2/52
here at Midcentral Domestic Indemnity 
we protect the financial hardships 
and interests of our clients 
the hospital or doctor 
not families with catastrophic illness’ 
 
remember we are unable 
to pay benefits to you 
OR to your family 
 
some of our top performers 
have no work experience 
in any of these positions 
but please take a moment 
to review our website 
 
we are looking for your friends 
or other individuals who might have 
a resume similar to yours 
since you have no entrepreneurial spirit 
integrity or advancement 
opportunities within our company 
 
we offer 
EXCITING TIMES AHEAD 
a nurse visit and your phone number 
to a hospice assistant 
because your mental 
status has changed 
 
How Insurance Adjusters Get their Game On (Spam Poem)
50    Prairie Light Review 1
Sauers: How Insurance Adjusters Get their Game on (Spam Poem)
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2016
also included is 
personalized training 
company trips and professional 
incentives 
stock options 
$60-$80k weekly 
performance based compensation 
and other rewards and bonuses 
for a lifetime residency 
in our pathology department 
 
to schedule an interview 
let me know if you want me 
bring a copy of your medical records 
and common scams and please 
contact 
our Trust and Security Team 
 
arrive in person 10 minutes early 
and dress in the parking lot 
 
with warm regards 
 
PAUL 
 
Midcentral Domestic Indemnity 
Recruiting Director 
Ryan K. Sauers
Spring 2017    51 2
The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 39 [2016], No. 2, Art. 52
http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol39/iss2/52


English

How Insurance Adjusters Get their Game on (Spam Poem)

Crawford, Ronda L.

The Prairie Light Review
Volume 39 | Number 2 Article 53
Spring 5-1-2017
In Memory of Ezra
Ronda L. Crawford
College of DuPage
Follow this and additional works at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in
The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact koteles@cod.edu.
Recommended Citation
Crawford, Ronda L. (2017) "In Memory of Ezra," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 39 : No. 2 , Article 53.
Available at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol39/iss2/53
In Memory of Ezra 
 
Memory is a liar.            
                           
Not with malicious intent. Memory does a little hair and make up to take 
selfies and then applies 4 different filters so you can write captions that 
say “woke up like this” or hashtag “team natural.” 
  
Memory wants to be seen in the best light is all, so when you pull out 
your phone to reminisce next week or a hundred years from now this 
will be the picture you see. This will be the beginning of a narrative you 
control. 
  
You walk 6 blocks, climb 42 stairs to the platform, board and ride the 
train. You pass the time looking out the window as the scenery becomes 
a fast shutter, frame by frame blur, like the beginning of a movie shot on 
35mm film. 
  
Traveling through the subway tunnels is like being underwater.  You are 
submerged into darkness holding your breath, eyes shut so tight they 
sting, your body weightless being propelled forward by motion. And 
then there is light, sudden and almost blinding. You gasp for air; you can 
breathe now. 
  
You take inventory of what you have become, making sure all the pieces 
made it out of the tunnel intact: 
  
mole skin notebook covered in ink from a failed attempt at fountain pen 
use, its pages filled with random thoughts; 
a worn cordovan leather backpack found discarded in a thrift store on 
Broadway traded for a moss green pea coat made of itchy wool that 
smelled of mothballs; 
a pair of Doc Martens (navy not black) broken in over the summer with 
an $20-dollar bill tucked in the heel for emergencies; 
a trendy sundress, new bought on clearance and worn for the very first 
time, 
your mother’s eyes, your father’s hair… 
  
You’re interesting… Ezra said on more than one occasion. Interesting was 
something he knew intimately. 
  
52    Prairie Light Review 1
Crawford: In Memory of Ezra
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2016
Ezra, tall with an easy way of speaking in languid tones so round and 
deep, almost melodic like classic old school R&B tunes. He underdressed 
deliberately except for ridiculously expensive shoes. He said it was 
because he had size 15 feet, but you knew it was because he only liked 
playing poor. 
  
Interesting… 
 
More thoughtful than kind, Ezra gave you books you should read, mu-
sic you had to hear, bought you pistachio shortbreads dipped in white 
chocolate; And offered opinions on philosophy, politics, and art like gifts 
in large boxes, wrapped in beautiful foil embossed paper tied with silk 
ribbons and he found you of all people… 
  
Interesting. 
  
You had a vibe, a cool thing, soft and comforting that Ezra wrapped 
himself around enveloping, molding the two of you into something like 
the secret language of twins playing in warm tall summer grass, sharing 
gentle riptides of laughter between perfect silences. 
  
Interesting… 
  
You wonder sometimes what becomes of interesting girls. What do they 
grow up to be? 
  
Ezra anticipates your arrival with 4 shots of hot espresso poured over ice. 
You sit together drinking coffee when Ezra spots an older couple across 
the street walking hand and hand. Tell me their story… 
How long have they know each other, Ezra asks? 
They just started dating last year. You say and Ezra smiles. 
He loves this game. 
  
You look at him now on yellow paper that smells of lavender and time. 
Deep perfect creases have formed from the tight folding of safe keeping, 
creating seams that are beginning to come undone from holding close a 
fading image of YOU as you were once. 
  
This is Memory well loved.  
Ronda L. Crawford
Spring 2017    53 2
The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 39 [2016], No. 2, Art. 53
http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol39/iss2/53


In Memory of Ezra

Farella Howley, Gina

The Prairie Light Review
Volume 39 | Number 2 Article 54
Spring 5-1-2017
Mom Now
Gina Farella Howley
College of DuPage
Follow this and additional works at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in
The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact koteles@cod.edu.
Recommended Citation
Farella Howley, Gina (2017) "Mom Now," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 39 : No. 2 , Article 54.
Available at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol39/iss2/54
Mom Now 
Sometimes when I allow myself to hurt 
I realize how deeply pain digs its ditches  
and wonder how badly I'll scar. I waste time wishing things were as be-
fore, 
but life keeps moving on. 
 
I know my little boys deserve a mother 
who's attentive and fun and whole. 
And I've got to get myself there everyday. 
Even though I'm broken, 
Even when I'd rather not, 
Momentum has mom in it; I must continue forward. 
 
And when I was young, my mom was always there:  
Providing so much love, 
Really amazing cooking, 
Giggles abound 
Everything that makes home safe. 
She taught me to be who I'm supposed to be.  
Life seemed to go on forever then  
and my mom was larger than life. 
But then she grew old before she aged, 
and all too soon she was gone. 
And now I have a family of my own. 
And, so, now I'm the mom. 
 
My children hurt because Grandma's gone. 
Her shadow casts a gap in our lives. 
Remembering her brings us closer. 
They request her specialty dinners; 
Trick or Treat her favorite candy. 
We cry together. 
 
Demands are made. 
And met . . . more are made. 
I cook and clean, shop, tutor, host; 
and try to portray who "mom" is supposed to be. 
And when no one is watching,  
I cry alone. 
For them, and for me, I carry on. 
54    Prairie Light Review 1
Farella Howley: Mom Now
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2016
'Cuz I'm the mom now. 
 
The pain where happiness was 
is part of me. 
Defines me. 
I wasn't ready to watch her die. 
'still unwilling to say goodbye. 
 
But I'll try. 
Because that's what she would've expected 
And that's what my family deserves 
It's my turn to take the wheel 
God intends the circle of life to go on... 
Because the greatest reality is 
I'm Mom now and always. 
 
Which is the most important part of me. 
N
an
a’s
 B
ird
ne
st
A
m
y 
Ca
m
p
Gina Farella Howley
Spring  2017    55 2
The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 39 [2016], No. 2, Art. 54
http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol39/iss2/54


Mom Now

Cosmetology students prepare models for 2013 Fashion Show – Sketches.https://dc.cod.edu/marcom-studentlife-events/1990/thumbnail.jp

2013 Fashion Show - Cosmetology Students_1

https://dc.cod.edu/marcom-events-fairs/1021/thumbnail.jp

2012 Domestic Violence Awareness Fair_02

https://dc.cod.edu/marcom-events-fairs/1031/thumbnail.jp

2012 Manufacturing & Technology Expo_07

https://dc.cod.edu/marcom-studentlife-events/1996/thumbnail.jp

2013 Fashion Show - Cosmetology Students_7

https://dc.cod.edu/marcom-studentlife-events/1994/thumbnail.jp

2013 Fashion Show - Cosmetology Students_5

Ahlert, Alyssa

The Prairie Light Review
Volume 38 | Number 2 Article 8
Spring 5-1-2016
Around Midnight on the 10th of January
Alyssa Ahlert
College of DuPage
Follow this and additional works at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in
The Prairie Light Review by an authorized administrator of DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact koteles@cod.edu.
Recommended Citation
Ahlert, Alyssa (2016) "Around Midnight on the 10th of January," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 38: No. 2, Article 8.
Available at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol38/iss2/8
Why Did I Not Write
Ida Kotyuk
Why did I not write—day by day, 
at the beginning? 
  
Monotonous uneventful words, written 
as it happened, would have made an interesting tale. 
Pages no one else could write from memory. 
  
During my endless tomorrows, 
I scuttled my talent, my craft. 
  
My passions abused and consumed, 
time slipped through my fingers 
by entertainments. Detours 
against beginners eager to feast on fame. 
  
Now here at my desk I sit 
near the River Styx. 
Mute.
The Writer
Gouache
Ida Kotyuk
I just want to be free. 
Free from pain, 
free from hate, 
free from possibility,
free from myself. 
I am chained to these thoughts as a ghost is to his earthly misdeeds, 
and this mind of mine so weighs on me, 
pulling ever so steadily upon my motivations 
until even waking is a chore. 
And yet, the sun still shines; 
flowers still grow. 
The songbird on my windowsill still sings out her praises each dawn. 
From my cage of pretense I see the stars, 
and through the darkness in this cell, my company is kept; 
twinkling, and gently hopeful; 
inspiring, yet not blinding 
like daylight sometimes seems to be. 
And if this heavy fog tires of my quiet agony 
and leaves me for a moment, 
blessed sleep may yet find me tonight. 
Around 
Midnight on 
the 10th of 
January
Alyssa Ahlert
Prairie Light Review6 1
Ahlert: Around Midnight on the 10th of January
Published by Di italCommons@COD, 2015


Around Midnight on the 10th of January

Tolman Flannery, Maureen

The Prairie Light Review
Volume 38 | Number 2 Article 61
Spring 5-1-2016
Alameda Park
Maureen Tolman Flannery
College of DuPage
Follow this and additional works at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in
The Prairie Light Review by an authorized administrator of DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact koteles@cod.edu.
Recommended Citation
Tolman Flannery, Maureen (2016) "Alameda Park," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 38: No. 2, Article 61.
Available at: http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol38/iss2/61
Alameda Park
Maureen Tolman Flannery
Mexico City 
                          Diego Rivera painted three inquisition victims 
                          into his depiction of Alameda Park. 
  
Today lovers, too Catholic to take each other home, 
caress with reckless ardor on stone benches 
beneath leafy eucalyptus trees.  Pirated CDs blare 
into jacaranda air as families stroll down pathways 
where the stench of burning flesh once disturbed 
the flight trajectory of jungle birds. 
 
Hernando Alonzo was first. 
The pyre that consumed him
set ablaze five centuries of hatred 
that spread throughout the land being evangelized—
being told of a loving and merciful God. 
 
Jews were unwelcome in a Spain 
recently wrenched from its Moorish yoke. 
Yet braving waves of unknown oceans could not save them. 
Hernando Alonzo, a close companion of Cortez, 
married Beatriz Ordaz, sister of Cortez’ captain. 
Should such a couple not have been safe in the New World? 
 
Yet who could be at ease when guilt was assumed of anyone accused 
and anyone well-positioned could expect to be accused? 
Hernando’s success made people uneasy. 
Nor could devout professions of Christian faith keep them safe 
for conversion was required, but always suspect. 
All Conversos were soon banned from Spain’s newly-pilfered lands. 
 
Nezahualcoyotl’s grandson was next to become burnt offering 
to the Spaniards’ God of forgiveness, compassion, 
next to serve as fuel to the wildfires of their zealotry.
Prairie Light Review52 1
Tolman Flannery: Alameda Park
Published by Di italCommons@COD, 2015
Dona Mariana Violante de Carvajal would be among 
the many women destroyed for being other, 
reduced to firewood for adherence to her truth. 
She was a crypto-Jew, so accused 
and thus set ablaze in the very place 
where we now buy grilled elotes 
and absorb the gentle warmth of sub-tropic sun.
Iris
Acrylic and ink painting
Candy Melara
Spring 2016 532
The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 38 [2015], No. 2, Art. 61
http://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol38/iss2/61


College of DuPage

Not a member yet