1 b. 1. eike second place poetry death of k (Kenyatta, 1893-1978, remembered) 1 In a haughty turn of mind, ldi Amin was left stumbling in protocol. Gasping to catch his slighted breath, Spitting your salt-water glance into the crowd. Among the black flowers ( 1 was one), Lying in stiff salute, not important now, Not able to give and take political insult And only dead, no more; the loss of him Touches us like a vague old woman. Her mind on something else. I wonder if the princes understand (or did) One man's danger touching all. Stepping one massacre to another, Leaving bloody footprints up to his demise. Old man, you've come a long way. Many solemn faces circle your sleep. Many wayward incidents drawn together again; Many errant children struggling to comprehend. Many bitter words will be buried with you ; They have turned to other pursuits already. Seated still we listen As each man sends his words ricochetting. They rose to cheer a crocodile smile; The English stand dark. As children concerned themselves away, Unaware of your tears in the night. Even old, were they aware? They flinched away from your thought of age And you thought You'd live forever. Steven m. smith second place photography 0 At ... - vT J t 1 1 A 3 t V JJ , ' f : At, " V '";r' ."" marie mahoney JOe at the bar tod po( I A Man Sitting Alone Someone should have Stopped him at the door, Grabbed another stray and said, "Hey, pretend you know this guy." Instead, they let him sit alone, Tapping his glass on the table-top, Playing games with the shadow Of his head on the wall. II The Girl Who Jumped Out of the Blues The girl who jumped out of the blues Lost in a jitterbug. Legs and arms tangled in smoke--Blends into the sound of an old man Singing a song about going home. III Two Poets Two poets drinking In the corner spill dreams into Each others' beer. I Song I heard a : Miner nan The Joe ti Has curly In the boc Says "y'w Better tha Ever met. If I could I'd sing ab II Distrac 1 tried to Over coff But you c Played yo Game of s Then to h I had to w Shuffle. III Air F When he 1 It smells li And dirty page 4 fathom friday, december 1, 1978