DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

Pobo, Kenneth

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 50 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Masks Confronting Death 
Kenneth Pobo 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Pobo, Kenneth (2021) "Masks Confronting Death," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 50. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/50 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
MASKS CONFRONTING DEATH
 James Ensor, 1888
We doubt that Death will 
pop in today.  We change 
snow tires and channels.  
Death makes itself at home, 
comfy in my favorite chair.   
I’m tempted to kick it, 
but it might get angry 
and kill me.  I bring Death 
a glass of Moet.   
My great-great grandpa
said that Death likes wine.  
If I were Death, 
I’d get blotto.  A grim job, 
dealing in decay.  When Death 
finally leaves—he drops 
a calling card on our table,  
says he will return.  We toss 
our locks in the river.
   - Kenneth Pobo
53
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Pobo: Masks Confronting Death
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English

Masks Confronting Death

Waters, Jim

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 52 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Winner Winner 
Jim Waters 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Waters, Jim (2021) "Winner Winner," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 52. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/52 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Winner Winner. Photography. Jim Waters
55
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Waters: Winner Winner
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Winner Winner

Bressler, MJ

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 58 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Dream (During the Time of Cancer) 
MJ Bressler 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Bressler, MJ (2021) "Dream (During the Time of Cancer)," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 
58. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/58 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
DREAM
(During the Time of Cancer)
I sit against white plaster walls
in the garage under my Grandmother’s house
 Secure and safe, my childhood sanctuary, 
until a squirrel with knowing eyes 
approaches, scarab in its mouth.
The stone is dropped in front of me,
but as I reach out to pick it up
I’m bitten.
 I scream, hysterically, for help
to catch the squirrel, that may be rabid,
while two shadows stand immobile
by the door.
 I run out and catch the squirrel
and squeeze its neck between my hands.
I feel its life spin out
as my thumbs press hard
upon the bones that crack and crumble
beneath my force.
I shiver from this feel of death and know-
I can only count
on me    
- MJ Bressler
60
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Bressler: Dream (During the Time of Cancer)
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Dream (During the Time of Cancer)

Tausz, Anna

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 1 Fall 2021 Article 62 
Fall 12-1-2021 
Paperclips 
Anna Tausz 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Tausz, Anna (2021) "Paperclips," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44 : No. 1 , Article 62. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss1/62 
This Artwork 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 orenick@cod.edu. 
Paperclips. Graphite and Ink. Anna Tausz
64
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Tausz: Paperclips
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Paperclips

Vega, Jolie

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 43 
Number 2 Spring 2021 Article 17 
Spring 5-1-2021 
Welcome Home 
Jolie Vega 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Vega, Jolie (2021) "Welcome Home," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 43 : No. 2 , Article 17. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/17 
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 orenick@cod.edu. 
Welcome Home                                                                                                                       Jolie Vega 
A piece of hair. Just one. I found it near a crack in the wall. I wouldn’t have 
been alarmed if it was the same color as mine. The next day it was more 
hair, slipping out as if gasping for air. I think the crack was bigger than it 
was before, I’m not sure. 
Swarming out of the crack, my hair gripped the wall in a desperate at-
tempt to break it. Clumps formed like claws, desperately scratching at the 
chipping paint, cracking, dragging, and scraping away so the distance 
between us closes. I hope you see it. 
I patched the crack in the wall. Hairs were swarming out of it like worms, 
slithering and wiggling as they fell towards the ground when I approached. 
Maybe I was imagining it, but I swear the hair clung to me as I cleaned up. 
I’m still finding pieces on clothes I wasn’t wearing that day. 
I know every nook and cranny inside the walls of this house, all the places 
where I can take hold of your rooms like an infection. All the places where 
I can leave bits of myself. All the places where I can see you.  
Fingernails. In my bed, beside my pillow, in the kitchen. There are so many 
different sizes and shapes, that’s how I know they aren’t mine. That’s how I 
know they must have come from multiple hands. 
You patched up another one of the cracks today. It doesn’t matter, I can 
make more. Every day I grow stronger. Soon I’ll be strong enough to meet 
you. I should think of a gift to give you until then. 
I should have known there was a reason this house was so cheap. I was prac-
tically given it for free. My closet is completely swamped in hair now, I’ve 
discovered multiple colors and lengths. Just how many people did these 
come from? I’ve been keeping a record; I keep it in a journal near my bed, 
the one next to the trash can I swipe discarded fingernails into, and the 
small pile of clothes that haven’t been infected by the hair yet. 12 types. I’ve 
found 12 types of hair. 
I decided on a gift. 
Gushing out of each gap in the tiles, pouring into my lap as I lay in the bath-
tub below, gallons and gallons of pus. At first, I had tried to contain it by 
pressing my hands against each sputtering hole, but there were too many, 
and my body was soon coated in a thick layer of the secretion. Eventually, 
the pus stopped, yet when I tried to drain the tub I found it was thoroughly 
clogged by a growth of sturdy hair. I would try to scoop up the pus in buckets 
and empty it outside, but all the doors and windows have been shut tight for 
days now, covered by some red and blue pulsating vines that I can’t bring 
myself to take a closer look at.
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Vega: Welcome Home
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I’ve nearly grown enough, soon I’ll be ready. It’s been so long since anyone 
joined me. I can’t wait. My body has expanded beyond the inside of these 
walls, taken root inside your fridge, in your closet, your cabinets, your 
doors, windows, and floor. I am a mold pervading your mind. 
Each step I take squishes the floor, the flesh growing from within the wood, 
collapsing under the weight of my foot before bouncing back up, spread-
ing further with renewed vigor and a sloppy, wet sound. At this point, the 
windows are so heavily covered that I can barely see with such little light, 
my other senses bombarded by the sound of a pumping heart and the rush 
of blood. My hands cling to the scaly, hairy walls for some sort of guidance. 
The house creaks slowly, in and out as if breathing; the walls shuddering 
and hair blowing along with the rhythm. I steady myself enough to make it 
to the kitchen. Holding a knife in my hand, knuckles white yet hands shak-
ing, I prepare myself. 
Come here. Come here so I can get a good look at you. Don’t be scared. We’ll 
meet soon. 
The flesh was much thicker than I imagined, and although I put my whole 
body into each stab, it seemed to barely make a cut in the wall. The house 
shook and pumped around me, seeming to twitch with each slice of my 
knife. Finally, through the dim light filtered around me, I could make out a 
small gas sputtering blood weakly that pitter-pattered against what was left 
of the wooden floor, the flesh convulsing around each splatter as if to suck 
it up. I desperately thrust in my knife, pushing down the blade as deeply as I 
could, each motion gradually opening the wound. At last, a chunk splashed 
onto the bloody floor, and from there the walls continued to crumble, the 
house violently heaving, whimpering and moaning in pain. 
My breath hitched in my throat, knife clattering to the ground, hands trem-
bling in rhythm to the house. Eyes. Teeth. Arms. Hair. Veins. Legs. Fingers. 
Nails. Hearts. Faces. All spread out within the walls in some sort of organ 
system, enough pieces coming together to somewhat form multiple individ-
uals in certain spots. Swaying arms, rolling eyes, screaming mouths, flailing 
hair, pumping organs; my senses were so jarred that I didn’t even notice the 
hair snaking around my ankle, bringing me closer. 
Welcome home.  
2
The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 43, No. 2 [2021], Art. 17
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/17


Welcome Home

Egbert, Samantha L.

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 43 
Number 2 Spring 2021 Article 23 
Spring 5-1-2021 
Sunset Boat Waves 
Samantha L. Egbert 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Egbert, Samantha L. (2021) "Sunset Boat Waves," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 43 : No. 2 , Article 23. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/23 
This Artwork 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 orenick@cod.edu. 
When I reached the little bay across the channel, there was no one in sight. 
Typically, early in the day, tourists weren’t up and about, today appeared 
to be no exception. I scanned the beach and saw something piled above the 
tideline. I pulled in closer, threw the anchor, and waded to shore. 
There in the sand sat the last vestiges of you. A faded blue beach towel and 
a pair of old leather sandals. I couldn’t make out from the size of the sandal 
whether you were 16 or 60, a grandmother or a grandson. From the fraying 
edges of your towel, I could see that you had spent many a day beachside. I 
stared at your shoes for a while. 
I walked the 20 yards or so to the path that led to the parking lot. At its star-
board side, a tall wooden pole stood guard over the lonely beach. At the foot 
of the denuded pole, facedown in the sand, lay a sign. I flipped it over and 
read the red capital letters. 
WARNING! 
RIP CURRENTS
YOU COULD BE 
SWEPT OUT 
AND DROWN.
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Egbert: Sunset Boat Waves
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2021


Sunset Boat Waves

Krebaum, Joseph

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 43 
Number 2 Spring 2021 Article 31 
Spring 5-1-2021 
In the Air (2002) 
Joseph Krebaum 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Krebaum, Joseph (2021) "In the Air (2002)," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 43 : No. 2 , Article 31. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/31 
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 orenick@cod.edu. 
In the Air (2002)                         Joseph Krebaum
In the air all the flags are hung
In the streets all the people have fun
Drinking glasses of ice cold lemonade
Celebrating the achievements we’ve made
While occasionally keeping an eye on terrorists
Believing that ignorance really is bliss
In New York you can fly on a plane
Invest your money in a high-tech chain
Play guitar in an indie rock band
Travel anywhere across the land
Without the need of an ID card
From the comfort of your own front yard
Maybe you can even get a job
Working hard in the Wall Street mob
In D.C. everyone gets along
Politicians sing the same old song
“With liberty and justice for all”
Then the President stands proud and tall
“America is a fine fine place” he says
“In one year we’ve made so much progress.
The economy is growing and it keeps getting better.”
Who knew money would be such an attention getter?
In Chicago the sky is never the limit
I watched a film where some buildings were hit
And thought “I wonder if this will happen soon”
Well I just knew that could never be true
But you never really know unless it happens to you
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Krebaum: In the Air (2002)
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In the Air (2002)

Cunningham, Michael

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 43 
Number 2 Spring 2021 Article 45 
Spring 5-1-2021 
Flowers for St. Germaine 
Michael Cunningham 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Cunningham, Michael (2021) "Flowers for St. Germaine," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 43 : No. 2 , Article 
45. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/45 
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 orenick@cod.edu. 
Flowers for St. Germaine                              Michael Cunningham
What happened in the place where your heart resides / the scar tis-
sue beating faster and pushing  / the sanguineous fury towards your 
fingertips / What did it feel like when you reached for the strap / 
coffee brown leather and cheap plated bronze / Did the weight bear 
down on your calloused hand / striking that exquisite little creation 
// The yet to bloom suddenly making its thorns known / you threw 
it to the ground / tried stomping it into a mess of petals and fiber / 
yelling stop being a rose / damn your thorns /  the rose responding 
/ i can’t i can’t i can’t stop being a rose / you gave me these thorns to 
protect me //  A bright shock of red that would be flower now fading 
away / salty rain and petals on the sun-stained maple floor / The rose-
hip it hoped to become / sweet and filled with vibrance / dashed to 
bits / and rotting // What made you choose the strap / the switch / the 
old spoon / the inside of your guilty hand / the back and its bumpy 
knuckles / the fist / Watching the red welts rise to the surface / taking 
the place of velvety petals / now wilted, shriveled and purple / Every 
stroke marking the distance from your days as a flower / when you 
still had petals / when you still had hopes of becoming fruit
48
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Cunningham: Flowers for St. Germaine
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Flowers for St. Germaine

Burm, TJ

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 43 
Number 2 Spring 2021 Article 47 
Spring 5-1-2021 
Warhol Collage Portrait 
TJ Burm 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Burm, TJ (2021) "Warhol Collage Portrait," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 43 : No. 2 , Article 47. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/47 
This Artwork 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 orenick@cod.edu. 
Warhol Collage Portrait. TJ Burm
50
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Burm: Warhol Collage Portrait
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Warhol Collage Portrait

Ziemer, R.G.

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 43 
Number 2 Spring 2021 Article 58 
Spring 5-1-2021 
Cosmic Blueprint 
R.G. Ziemer 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Ziemer, R.G. (2021) "Cosmic Blueprint," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 43 : No. 2 , Article 58. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol43/iss2/58 
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 orenick@cod.edu. 
Cosmic Blueprint                         R.G. Ziemer 
To hell with this emptiness formless and dark.
Let there be skyfire bright above stone –  
Yes, that’s better,
That’s good.
Let the blue water rush, let it pour from the void,
And let sunshadow cool against rock solid shores, yes
I like it.
So Day versus Night,
Hardlands assailed  by clamorous waves
With the vault of the heavens
Containing it all,
Gilded with sunshine
Polished all silvery, starry and moonish.
Excellent, excellent!
Let it be green
And teeming with life.
Let the creepers and crawlers and swimmers
Go wild!
With these beasts of the field and 
Birds on the wing
It’s a beautiful thing
If I say so my Self.
I could check the plan over once more,
But it’s perfect.
Perhaps such a delicate
Balance requires
Some maintenance,
Some supervision:
Someone to tend it, 
Defend it and 
Keep it all working
The way that it should: 
Optimum temperature, 
Perfect proportions of solids and gases,
Predator, prey,
Seasons and tides.
So the sheep have their shepherds
The seas have their song,
Mankind has the Knowledge.
What could go wrong?
63
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Ziemer: Cosmic Blueprint
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2021


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