A’CORA HICKSON
insignificance. you would say. little you feel. / passing is what i feel. but in reality i am the one stuck. // breezing past like a leaf caught in the wind. / i am the tree. // the motion of the picture. / i am that one, still shot….Continue Reading i am what you don’t see
Category: Issues
Absences in Personal Narrative
KALIDAS SHANTI
Maybe I should reconsider my position / on the camera. Maybe it is worth / that last smile inside the apartment, / the room that I gave up on (the one / with bullet holes but in which I could never / find the bullets), the vacuous spider…Continue Reading Absences in Personal Narrative
Decomposition
MAGGIE WU
Autumn in New England always strikes me as an ostentatiously formal affair in which one pulls out their finest wool and leather silhouettes, all in the most somber umbers and teals and siennas. And the dynamic frenzy of summer air crystallizes itself to clarity, a percussive precision dearly embraced. There are colors, too, that convey a taste of sweetness as the leaves caramelize to browns, oranges, apples— apples dipped in maple glazes and chocolate. The mountains are brightly foiled in dark ferns and the sun frosts the valley in maple….Continue Reading Decomposition
I Saw the Edge of Death in a Dunkin Donuts
LELAND CULVER
“Why are so many people getting Dunkin Donuts at 2pm on a Sunday?” / That was the question that started it all. I was driving to get groceries with Nicole and Elena—Elena was driving—and on our way out of the little strip mall parking lot, we had to navigate through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through line, which had somehow grown long enough to overflow from the space around the store….Continue Reading I Saw the Edge of Death in a Dunkin Donuts
If I Let It Happen
QUINCY SMITH
The inside of my palms are dirty / From the concrete blocks I sat on // The concrete was pressing against my palm / Creating a print in shape of pebbles // I look down and see the shape this concrete drew on my hand / My fists clench and unclench // Almost as if its searching for feeling / Almost as if i’m not feeling and I need to move to feel…Continue Reading If I Let It Happen
Wild Pitch
SARA ATTIA
(Why do you love what you love / Why do you love how you love / Couldn’t you find something better to do / (No, probably not.) // Francis wasn’t much of a lover. But what he loved, he loved to the point of pain.)…Continue Reading Wild Pitch
Food For Thought On Even Days
KALIDAS SHANTI
McDonald’s pancakes sink / the only place to eat / this breakfast before the 6 am bus / this dinner once it drops you off late / never for you, for them on odd days / who live under your roof? / Your son in the Navy to go sea / where you only dream of / maybe you’d call that attachment…Continue Reading Food For Thought On Even Days
Love Letter to a Missing Novel
KARLA MUÑOZ
You stood me up the other day. / I waited for you on the 3rd floor of Frost Library with my back to the wall. I wore my favorite satin
black skirt too. Did you mean to call? I had my ringer off but I think I would have noticed. I always notice. I just never pick up….Continue Reading Love Letter to a Missing Novel
The Ivory Tower
THOMAS BRODEY
It’s not often that you want to escape something you love. And yet often, that’s how I feel about my alma mater. A liberal arts education is like nothing else in the world. Much like Rapunzel in her tower, we hear about the world outside, from a passing bird perhaps, or a glimpse of a far off land. We paint what we cannot see on the walls, and hone our minds and hands so that we can portray with perfect realism an image we have.
…Continue Reading The Ivory Tower
Synthesis
LELAND CULVER
So I’m a hiker. Since I was little, I’ve been in love with nature. I’ve been through forests, canyons, prairie-country, even took an extended trip through the Sonoran. I’d like to walk the whole Appalachian trail someday. Can you imagine that? Surrounded on all sides by forested ridges, the noontime sun filtering calmly through the canopy. I’d need the money, though, and the time off work. Still, everywhere I go, I try to take the chance to hike….Continue Reading Synthesis
What the Fuck is Self Care
ARI DENGLER
There is a wolf trapped inside of me. The wolf gnaws at the soft skin of my belly, digging sharp claws into whatever vulnerable flesh it deems suitable. It is ravished and unpleased, pacing up and down my spine, soft paws sending silent shocks throughout my body. Its howls emerge as sobs, its yaps as nervous chatter. I despise the wolf, despise its hunger for happiness, a hunger that leaves me drained, dull, deprived….Continue Reading What the Fuck is Self Care
An Alphabet of Film Studies Under Quarantine
YASMIN HAMILTON
B is for Barthes, Roland. In particular, his 1979 essay “Upon Leaving the Movie Theater,” my favorite piece of writing on the syllabus of my freshman year film studies course. Barthes explores the pre- and post-viewing condition of the movie-goer—what he calls the “cinematic condition.” He describes the condition of the viewer before seeing a movie in Freudian terms: as “pre-hypnotic,” the viewer having a “‘crepuscular reverie’” that draws them to submit themself to the “anonymous, indifferent cube of darkness” that films are (1)….Continue Reading An Alphabet of Film Studies Under Quarantine
Captcha: A Villanelle
ROSS KILPATRICK
You’re nothing but a simple minded bot. / And before algorithmic gods give true accounts / Performing tasks without our feeble minds, so fraught // Click on all the hydrants, or sinners will be caught / And captcha will proudly announce / You’re nothing but a simple minded bot….Continue Reading Captcha: A Villanelle
A Brief Odyssey of Grief
ZOE AKOTO
It’s something like six a.m. when I roll downstairs / and you’re already there, making coffee. // We manage smiles, faint good mornings / pre-caffeine triumphs, even on a good week, / and I slip past you, put on the tea kettle / and settle in at the end of the counter. / It’ll take longer than it should. / I still fill the kettle for two cups, / less on instinct now and more / in defiance / and I wonder when I’ll quit that….Continue Reading A Brief Odyssey of Grief
Five Til Noon
SAM SPRATFORD
I first ran a lap in a scarlet sunrise, magenta clouds parting. Do you remember the way my hands shook as I / tied my shoelaces in the humid mist, double-knotted? Sprinting into the wind so quickly it was suffocating? / Staring at blank, ruled lines was the same and my heart was pounding as I clutched your hand in chemistry, / learning that too much oxygen could poison you. I guess there was such a thing as being too free….Continue Reading Five Til Noon
Who are you, really?
FRANCESCA DANIELS
What started as a simple Intro to Photography self-portrait assignment turned into an emotional internal dialogue and deep reflection about body, mind, and the way one sees oneself in various spheres of life. I like to think of myself as free and spirited, energetic and lively, but upon conversations with family and close friends, was reminded that this isn’t my whole story. I follow the rules, work hard, and try to plan ahead — there isn’t much free spirit in that. …Continue Reading Who are you, really?
The Art of Looking
DIEGO DUCKENFIELD-LOPEZ
I follow a mysterious woman draped in a navy-blue coat with a turquoise diamond pattern. The camera, like me, follows her steadfastly, focused on her hood, which bounces as she walks, until it falls off to reveal a messy bun of bright, blonde hair. She bolts towards the cliff, my heart matches her speed as she gets closer and closer without slowing down; I chase her desperately but the wind pushes me back…Continue Reading The Art of Looking
Ecology of a Dark City
SPENCER WILLIAMS
I, Spencer Williams, hereby pledge I will return to this city. / I will watch the gray pavement dark with rain,
the steaming carts pushed by the street vendors / with ripped pantsuits and crooked smiles….Continue Reading Ecology of a Dark City
Ecology of a Beach House Love
SPENCER WILLIAMS
kind sun and gentle light / flutters rosy fingers behind pale curtains / and dips over your shoulders to settle and sleep. / at our feet the dog / siiiighs / and his lazy head drifts / upward…Continue Reading Ecology of a Beach House Love
Cosmic Poiesis
JACKELINE FERNANDES
When the world crumbled last March, I hadn’t expected it to last so long that I would spin off course from my quotidian orbit around Earth, attracted by the unrelenting gravitational pull of Mars. I didn’t know it at the time, but the email correspondence with a sophomore in my Letter Writing J-term class would soon become something more, something indefinable, rooted in a mutual appreciation for the graphemic, morphological, and semantic elements of language. …Continue Reading Cosmic Poiesis
Conversations with my TikTok Therapist
CAROLINA CORDON
Hi there. I didn’t see you. // Now that we’re here together, let’s take a deep breath. / Close your eyes. And // Inhale. Feel your lungs expand. Your muscles grow. Energy bubbling inside you. // Swirling. Swirling….Continue Reading Conversations with my TikTok Therapist
We Sell Care
MIKAYAH PARSONS
My gaze floats up to her lips, caked in red and drawn into a thin line with a slight upward tilt. She speaks as she looms behind the counter, “Yes, ma’am. So, you’ve purchased the basic package, which is really just the skeleton of the work we do here.”…Continue Reading We Sell Care
Myth of the Garden
SARA ATTIA
You have woken up for the first or last time in your life. A. Apple Tree or Mountainside River? / If apple tree, go to B. If River, go to E. …Continue Reading Myth of the Garden
Letter from the Editor: Self-Care
Take care. Give each other care. Self-care. Be careful. Practice care. The sheer repetition of the word care slowly seeps its meaning from its form. The phrase becomes distorted, a lifeless shell of a sentiment so fundamental to life. In a global pandemic, the sentiment is well intended, yet as a greeting, a valediction, and…Continue Reading Letter from the Editor: Self-Care
Fall 2020
Fall 2020: Our Political Existence…Continue Reading Fall 2020