Night

Concordance "Night" by Elie Wiesel:
These are the 100 most frequently used words in another edition of this book.
again already another bed behind block body bread came camp come day dead death down end even evening eyes face father felt few first front german get give go god going good got hand head heard himself hours jews keep know last left let little long longer man men moment must myself new night nothing now officer old once order others outside own passed people place prisoners right said say see shall should sleep snow someone son soon soup ss stay stayed still strength suddenly ten though thought three time took toward two voice wanted went whole without word work

Why I voted the Socialist Ticket

by Vachel Lindsay

I am unjust, but I can strive for justice.
My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness.
I, the unloving, say life should be lovely.
I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness.

Man is a curious brute — he pets his fancies —
Fighting mankind, to win sweet luxury.
So he will be, tho' law be clear as crystal,
Tho' all men plan to live in harmony.

Come, let us vote against our human nature,
Crying to God in all the polling places
To heal our everlasting sinfulness
And make us sages with transfigured faces.

Deadline

by Barbara Kingsolver

The night before war begins, and you are still here.
You can stand in a breathless cold
ocean of candles, a thousand issues of your same face
rubbed white from below by clear waxed light.
A vigil. You are wondering what it is
you can hold a candle to.

You have a daughter. Her cheeks curve
like aspects of the Mohammed's perfect pear.
She is three. Too young for candles but
you are here, this is war.
Flames covet the gold-sparked ends of her hair,
her nylon parka laughing in color,
inflammable. It has taken your whole self
to bring her undamaged to this moment,
and waiting in the desert at this moment
is a bomb that flings gasoline in a liquid sheet,
a laundress's snap overhead, wide as the ancient Tigris,
and ignites as it descends.

The polls have sung their opera of assent: the land
wants war. But here is another America,
candle-throated, sure as tide.
Whoever you are, you are also this granite anger.
In history you will be the vigilant dead
who stood in front of every war with old hearts
in your pockets, stood on the carcass of hope
listening for the thunder of its feathers.

The desert is diamond ice and only stars above us here
and elsewhere, a thousand issues of a clear waxed star,
a holocaust of heaven
and somewhere, a way out.

An Infinite Number of Monkeys

by Ronald Koertge

After all the Shakespeare, the book
of poems they type is the saddest
in history.

But before they can finish it,
they have to wait for that Someone
who is always

looking to look away. Only then
can they strike the million
keys that spell

humiliation and grief, which are
the great subjects of Monkey
Literature

and not, as some people still
believe, the banana
and the tire.

with all due respect

Mr. Bush is said to test the mettle of his new employees by farting when they enter the Oval Office. So why is anyone insulted by the mention of a sulfurous scent left by same individual at the podium of the United Nations? If he enjoys a good fart joke, who are we to judge?
And if the shoe fits, wear it, America.
You elected a man who likes to fart in business situations for the purpose of reading a person's character through his reaction. You elected the guy you'd like to drink a beer and share a televised football game with, Viagra ads included, instead of the smart guy who would have signed the Kyoto Treaty.
So live with your flatulent leader, America. You deserve it. Don't blame Hugo for telling the truth.