Poetry
warm summer evening
Kaavya Butaney somewhere, in the dead of the night, there is a man confessing to a copper virgin mary, smoking a chain of cheap, stale cigarettes, guiltily finding solace in the unholy while he scrubs himself clean. oh, our mother who art in heaven, forgive me for my trespasses. a block away, there is a… Read More warm summer evening
The Warm Sun
Milo Fernandez In the warm sun my eyes are closed I see the blacks of my eyelids and the red of the sun beaming across the right side of my face through my hair and skin In the warm sun I feel the tickling turf of crab enveloping my head and legs and elbows, brushing… Read More The Warm Sun
unification captured
Kailey Morand In the portrait of their unification they stare stoically at Reverend Richard, iconized marrier of souls. It seems the left edge of Billie’s veil is lined with the white lace of my grandma’s favorite tablecloth. Maybe she was too busy pressing its fabric to go to her daughter’s wedding. At first glance I… Read More unification captured
Central Artery
Roy Zhu “I gazed up at the tall, gray, concrete wall and the ramp that ran along the top of it. The rubber tires of cars and trucks sped up the ramp and rumbled onto the Southeast Expressway. This wall cast a dark shadow over the edge of Hudson Street and over the remaining red… Read More Central Artery
Breaking Ground
Kailey Morand On my first night, cramped in the abundance, I clash with the confines of two-foot tall sleeping quarters. Again confined to space nobody else wants. Trained to be small, I’m relentlessly successful. This travel trailer cannot hold a family of four, if you can call us that. My moms are living in a… Read More Breaking Ground
jam sesh
Khyla Bussey My stomach had a belch full of negro tugging at my tongue With a story to tell from then, for now I freed ‘em with the breath of my clarinet The piano dissed the noise and would not play with me So my womb begat a cornet I held my… Read More jam sesh
Interchanges
Roy Zhu 1. Tight Diamond My father hates tolls. As a child, his words broke hard on me. These potholes are shit! We would often drive anxious circles out of the way of those gates. Those tax-hungry vinegar-born wretches—tell me what we pay for anyway! He knows roads as his hand its creases—… Read More Interchanges
a soft breath out
Sydney MacGilvray the dog I am caring for has a stomachache . (I stroke her side soft as a mother . as she gnaws sleepily at the carpet) streetlamps melt horizontal into a buttery haze . (the blackness above made… Read More a soft breath out
a study in erosion
Lily Walters i. you told me, once, that we are a mosaic of star stuff. we were cramped together on your little twin bed, staring up at the peeling plaster of your ceiling, the water stain in the corner above your desk. everything seemed to push against everything else, then. hardwood floors with plush rugs,… Read More a study in erosion
Burial Rites
Emma Truong In my dream you became Every grief I don’t yet know how to name. My doctor says love is a detachment And I think of you Quietly burying your animal body While I held your hand, helped you dig, Understood the moth that lost its way home, How it made a saint out… Read More Burial Rites
