The Dead Hour

The dead hour,
its hoarse voice,

pleases only the dead.
There is no good
morning in its voice.

That hoarse voice,
too rough for kindness,

it does not sing
for anyone, for
woman or man.

The dead hour
greets the morning sun

with a bullet.

It waits on the
rains to come.

It pounds a fist,
bleeding in
three places.

The dead hour,
sad and hoarse,
waits for sunset

to be dead.

 

Luis Berriozabal, born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, The Rye Whiskey Review, Unlikely Stories, The Writing Disorder, Yellow Mama Magazine, and ZYX. His poetry books and chapbooks were published by Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, Propaganda Press, and Pygmy Forest Press.

Art can illuminate even the most elusive and difficult to comprehend ideas. Visual rules and tightly codified visual metaphors help scientists communicate complex ideas mostly amongst themselves, but they can also become barriers to new ideas and insights. Dr. Regina Valluzzi’s images are abstracted and diverged from the typical rules and symbols of scientific illustration and visualization; they provide an accessible window into the world of science for both scientists and non-scientists.

 

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