Episode 153 – Jenny Montgomery / Gwendol

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Episode 153 – Jenny Montgomery / Gwendolyn Brooks – Jenny Montgomery reflects on the need to wake up to the realities of history, even when they are unpleasant. She pairs her thoughts with a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks, a Pulitzer prize winning poet. http://ow.ly/8WHe503Cw6X

Episode 150 – David Moore / N. Scott Mom

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Episode 150 – David Moore / N. Scott Momaday – Reflections West co-host David Moore reflects on social justice and how it relates to living on the land we love. He pairs his thoughts with a poem by N. Scott Momaday, a Pulitzer prize winner. http://ow.ly/SInF503gIpc

“Warm Winter’s Day” by Silas Phillips

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Congratulations to Silas Phillips on his second honorable mention, “Warm Winter’s Day.” Silas is a sophomore at UM studying environmental sciences and dabbling in taking photos. Click here to view his first honorable mention, “Waiting for Rene.”

close up of an opening in a frozen river.
“Warm Winter’s Day” by Silas Phillip, Photograph

“Eat with me” by Elaine Kelly

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Congratulations to Elaine Kelly for receiving and honorable mention for her poem, “Eat with me.”

Elaine Margaret Kelly of Montana was born to missionary parents in December of 1993. She fears blushing, wasting time, and being a fraud. She is a friend, a confidant, a lover of slow music and other romantic things.

Eat with me

Eat with me. I’ll treat you to some cultivated supper.
Swallow soft. Forget your piling plans and eat with me, cure meat with me, spill coffee- beans and sing with me.
Rest your tired thighs. I’ll pull a chair for you, sip kitchen chai.
Child, eat with me. I’ll stir and whisk and sift through cupboard seasonings.
Sit still, I’ll scrub the dirt out of the creases in the garden bits.
I’ll stop to let you cry into my dying plant.
I’ll feed you with a gilded spoon. I’ll hold your heavy crown to set you gentle on the tiled ground. We’ll twist our skinny arms together.
Waltz behind cold windows where I planted flowers in the concrete portico.
Eat of it, eat all of you. I’ll feed you my own calf undressed and hoisted high above a hungry congregation, leave the dishes for the morning.

“Waiting for Rene” by Silas Phillips

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Silas earned two honorable mentions from the Oval this year. His first is titled, “Waiting for Rene.” The second, “Warm Winter’s Day,” will appear on the blog on August 3rd, 2016. Silas is a sophomore at UM studying environmental science and dabbling in taking photos.

City winterscape at night
“Waiting for Rene” by Silas Phillips, Photograph

Episode 148 – Jennifer Savage / Sharon O

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Episode 148 – Jennifer Savage / Sharon Olds – Jennifer Savage reflects on the way two people merge with one another and then with the place they call home. http://ow.ly/8RQ0502AkwA

“sea captain catman and his shitty night vision” by Samantha Ricci

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The Oval recognizes “sea captain catman and his shitty night vision” by Samantha Ricci with an honorable mention this year. Samantha writes about herself:

I hatched from an egg in Montana around the same time Jamaican authorities opened fire on Jimmy Buffett’s seaplane because they thought it was part was a drug smuggling operation.

Like the aftermath of the above fiasco, me writing poetry was a premature accident that was awkward for basically everyone involved.

I think it’s funny as shit.

sea captain catman and his shitty night vision

i.                       what feral friends we are, big talk
talkers bobbing in the deep green sea.
we get beached and run so far from home we have to
hitchhike back, dead on our feet, while the sailors
in our lungs
pull in their ships with big thick
ropes. they get no help from us this
time – we are more apologetic than
grateful.

ii.                       and we’re all fucking cultured aren’t
we, in our bitten to shit lip cracking crew,
banged up so good we got our big kitty
claws out for the quick draw swing so they
don’t rust inside our big kitty paws.
none of us admit that we need them
less often than we use them.

iii.                        we pass around dream girls like
the cigarrettes lit by the same cherried filter
of the long walk walker who smoked his
fastest,
since sharing is caring and all our lighters died an hour
ago. in the dark we trip on railroad ties
because only the cops get the nice flashlights
and we’re not up for the run. we walk slow and ask our torches to
last the home stretch PLEASE GOD last the home stretch.