Pi Zine Issue #3 Highlights
($1.50 for whole zine)

Table of Contents

by Burnt Paper Girl

Dreams spill from your lips, caramel sweet in their center. I can't see where they fall but I imagine them pooling together on the floor, gathering in the corners and hiding together under the bed. They shine like piquid gold, or at least what I imagine a gold lammé evening dress would look like if it were liquified. I try to scoop some up in my fingers, to try and stuff them into my pockets so I can sift through them like spare change later on, once you're far away again. I can't concentrate when the words are around, when they drip from your open mouth. They glimmer in the corner of my eye, sometimes sidling quickly away when I look directly at them
You words, they weren't always this way. At times they were like frozen razors, traipsing their way across my arteries. In the beginning they started a wildfire that grew from somewhere in my belly and spread to the tips of my ears and toes. They could be like vines around my wrists, or like an ankle-biting hungry cat. They could be so many things for me.
I stop and remember to listen to what those shining dreams are. They're so beautiful it never seems to matter that they never solidify. Just that they were spoken is enough. I wonder which one of your brain whorls they came from. Which chemical reacted with what nerve to create such hopeful poetry.
Your eyes grow darker when you go on like this, as if what you say must tap all of your brightness to become a reality. Can one person be a limitless source of such magic though? Like a restaurant breadbasket - there might be a pause before it's replenished, but there always seems to be more? This is more than I wanted to say. It would seem that your verbal glitter has weaved its way to my hand, to my fingers, leading them through the loops and swirls of putting pen to page. This effort alone will keep my own breadbasket empty for days.

Sppoky Girl Poetry
By Spooky Girl

Running From The Truth
Red poppy night blood.
Yellow ribbon sweet hearts.
Cunning little hope sees me
At work chipping nail polish.
Candy apple bracelet. Ears
ringing with sticky greed.
Black shine. Clouds across the moon.

frozen chicken dinners
in front of the tv
why have you stayed away so long?
when will you see me?
long hair chopped short
lips ruby red
everything enticing you
please come share my bed
blood ruby red
puddles on the floor
why did you stay away so long?
i never see you anymore.

Email: thirdwavegrrl@aol.com