Ring me up sometime, during those nights
When nocturnal creatures clad in robes and turbans
Bang their scaly fists on bar tables, yelling
“Give me a cocktail or give me death!”
As the neon lights of casinos blind anyone who stares too long.
I don’t go outside anymore because I know
I’ll have to buy a newspaper,
Say hello to people,
Be stared at on the bus.
Besides, my ashtray overflows like my laundry;
Dirty dishes float in the sink.
Police would later tell me that my parakeet died,
Trying to cross the Mexican border.
In his will, he left me a bouquet of dead tiger lillies,
A red bandana
And one size seven cowboy boot.
The plot thickens, they say.
For your information, I made a tsunami in my living room,
And I am the initiator of the very first Butterfly Effect.
I have also sewn your car doors together with golden thread,
So you won’t be able to open them,
Since you vowed never to destroy something beautiful.
Or handmade.
I’ll watch everyone throw caviar at each other, from a distance,
Sinking deeper into a bathtub filled with honey, bees,
And the complimentary honeycomb.
I’ll go out in a flash of gold, like the setting sun.

Claudia Shaldervan is a freshman majoring in Fine Arts at the School of Visual Arts. “I began writing during my high school sophomore year while on exchange in Germany. Incessantly writing poetry, I experimented with creating grotesque and bizarre images associated with the “violent forces of change raging inside me,” and a delusional limitlessness of power I thought I possessed as an independent teenager. Breathing the ever-present scent of youthful opportunity perfuming Freiburg, stamping my territorial graffiti on deserted midnight streets, and spending evenings chain smoking, fueled all of my creations. I feared others (no matter how well they knew me), and deeply enjoy the struggle of distilling ideas, balancing thoughts, and the gratification of successfully communicating these to others.”