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Bennington College's journal of arts and letters
‘Silo’
Chrysanthemum
Sonja Einem ‘15
Untitled
Terrell W. Orr ‘13
The Piano Tuner
Anonymous
I imagined him rolling up his sleeves and plunging waist-deep into the belly of the organ, the wood vibrating around him like the muscle walls of a living heart as he plucked wires with the precision of a surgeon, making minute, deft adjustments until the valves pumped a rich aortic symphony under his hands.
It Serves You Just Right
The Low Quo (Paul Stoicheff ‘13)
Reloj con prisa
Andrea Tapia ‘15
Empiezas,
reloj andante
retomas tu ritmo,
acarreas prisa,
deprisa,
que no llegas
al final.
Selfless Creation
Jess Joho ‘14
Somewhere in the world, a woman stops. Her brisk strides falter on a cobblestone street with the inexplicable, unmistakable realization that she is being known.
The English Lesson
Naomi Washer ‘12
You have to be careful.
In springtime you might find
yourself under a bush
with a boy
River Salamander
Hannah Kucharzak ‘13
In Japan, they called us monsters. They blame the river
for the deaths of childhood friends.
Feelings
Maria Jacobson ‘14
DEBRA, CHRISTOPHER, and SOCK sit in a plain room with white walls. DEBRA and CHRISTOPHER stand at opposite sides of the room with a chair at center stage. The sock lies on the floor. Anywhere downstage. DEBRA and CHRISTOPHER begin to laugh without smiling.
Mount of Jupiter
Riley Skinner ‘13
The Shapes of Gods
Kestrel Slocombe ‘12
He was planning the trip to India when I met him—he said he wanted to sleep on the rocks where the gods slept, kiss the women the gods kissed. We stayed up all night, he dancing from map to map, scribbling, making notes, telling me things; sometimes we laughed, sometimes we stumbled sick and tired down the stairs at dawn, into the fog; Jaime still laughing, laughing like a seagull, Jaime on the stony beach with a bottle in his hand, unsteady in the tide with his coat flapping.
the hot of skin on skin on skin
Alec Gear ‘15
spitting foam like sand
in storms in deserts and
blistered lips gasping gasps of leady cotton
on leg flab
Marble Course Sound Installation
Jo-Anne Hyun ‘12
Heart Line
Riley Skinner ‘13
Horned and Heart Shaped
Brittany Kleinschnitz
Pretty pseudohermaphrodite,
who steals your motherhood?
County Line
Ben Zucker ‘15
Three Properties of the Radish
Catherine Pikula ‘12
Dreaming of red again: radishes, unwashed,
and hands too rough. Soil no longer washes
off properly but has begun to embed
in life lines and knuckles like so many
birthmarks blooming, at first unnoticed.
Entrance
Hannah Kucharzak ‘13
Nevermind the origins, as they are unbeknown
to even the oracles, but who knows the rules of
divine intervention?
Quasar at redshift 1.110 with 1.7 Jy total flux density; 10h 58m 17.901s, +19 51′ 50.87″
Erick Daniszewski ‘14
Abbatino [in the event of an accident]
Naomi Washer ‘12
FEEL LIKE I’M MELTING STOP CONNECTICUT CHEMTRAILS STOP SMOKING COWBOY KILLERS STOP NEW BOOTS ARE CLUNKY STOP NO MORE SHIT FROM STRANGERS
Mount of Venus
Riley Skinner ‘13
Check My Credentials
Ellie Shenker ‘12
“Why Don’t You Love Me” presents a powerful attack against sexism, providing a point of radical departure for bell hooks’s “oppositional gaze.” Beyoncé’s music video for “Why Don’t You Love Me” employs a subtextual assault against normative femininity, engaging stereotypes with a knowing wink that destabilizes their unquestioned role in maintaining women’s position as passive object for the male gaze.
Transfiguration of Daphne
Catherine Pikula ‘13
VI.
Dug her toes in dirt for rooting, hands shooting
into bark. Father witnessed her loose
leaves catching fire in the red of the sun.
As the geese took flight for a winter free
of snow, father cried at the frozen river–
will never have grandchildren that wander.
A Letter to the Highways
Naomi Washer ‘12
This is what you should do: lean over the edge of the guardrail on the lowest highway in the Stack. Hold on tight as huge trucks and semis hurtle right at you. The floor of this highway will rumble and the metal bar will shake, rattling your wrists. The trucks pass through and under you. It looks as though they’ll hit you every time.
Alice and the Ghosts
Leah Zander ‘12
Alice plays the genteel Boston hostess and ushers him into the parlor. Despite the vase of fresh flowers on the mantle there remains the lingering staleness of infirmity. Henry pretends not to notice. Of the many things Alice appreciates about Henry, perhaps above all, is the fact that he never bothers to condescend to her (as William never fails to) with conversational pleasantries. Instead he speaks to her as she imagines he would any of his brilliant friends. He is no longer writing novels, he says; rather he will devote his talent to plays and short fiction.
“My literary posterity, as it were,” he says, “shall be in a large number of perfect short things.”
Eve
Julian Delacruz ‘14
Snakes all around, gnats in transit, young apples,
old apples. How precarious our situation turns
when we are judged naked in the light.
Wife Life
Hannah Kucharzak ‘13
I wake up and relay my dreams to him,
whether or not he sleeps sideways or
longways, with me or not, beds are beds
and dreams are indiscriminate illusions.
I gain sleep tales in handfuls, even awake.
Untitled
Sierra Hollister ‘15
Sestina (Gummo)
Julia Mounsey ‘13
There’s a thing, a brown thing about Ohio
It’s nothing like throwing marbles
It’s more to do with lying in the grass
Like my mother’s stomach, it’s a state of scars
She birthed me and felt ruined so she got a cat
When I was old enough I killed it with a bottle
Eurydice
Julian Delacruz ‘14
All I know is I got inside,
but not the way a man gets inside.
I sank into the earth with no shovel
where I became dim and agreeable.
Stopped for the Night Halfway South
Ben Redmond ‘14
I remember the small twitching
of my fingers and knees when I did close my eyes, waiting for the saccade
of sleep to arrive, moving subtly the way dogs
sometimes do.
Ohio Animals
Anna Gyorgy ‘14
he let the tiger out last
looking long into her wet eyes
before sliding the latch
Lover N#4
Jordan Kaplan ‘12
Eighteen
Mena Ahmed ‘13
The Topology of Human Networks Online
Max Nanis ‘12
A current research topic of mine has been the large scale architecting of social groupings and communities to shape the topology of human networks online. A new discipline that merges traditional computer security and social science, cognitive hacking is merged with computational ethology to think concretely about influence and behavior on the internet.
Untitled
Camille Roccanova ‘12
Cloud Gazing
Sarah Fetterman ‘14
Empire State #4
Alex Hovet ‘14
Windowsill
Naomi Washer ‘12
I dug my fingernails into thick orange skin and peeled, peeled. Juice dripped on my hands while a settled quiet overtook the street.
Abandon Ship
Paul Stoicheff ‘13
Northeast
Hannah Kucharzak ‘13
The land is an animal. Heather fur surrounds the bald
underbelly, the most vulnerable, the most bizarre.
Inside, just trees dying at comfortable distances,
as men stuck up in tattered houses, unwilling
to submit to proper care. The last left to a name.
Saskatchewan
Sara Judy ‘11
You will make a liar out of me if you listen.
The sky is the only whole truth I’ve told you,
and even that, badly. If I even speak about
the valley, the river cutting tight along tree lines,
the grass as fluid as the ocean, more deceptive,
just as deep, you will know the things I’ve hidden.
Jeweled fox backs and owl eyes, abandoned
silos like petrified giants, tractors and threshers
push out the fat bellied grouse, running forward
on their feet, chests out, under fences and
across the highway. The reservation dogs,
all lean muscle and teeth, big beautiful
half coyotes specked with blood-grey ticks
in the spring, who hang heavy in the fur
until the children pull them off to pop,
or they fall to the ground and splatter softly.
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