All Posts in Issue 1: Fall 2013

May 2015 - Comments Off

Hannah Lipper

In winter you are a lady in summer you are a lightening

Uncle you come to me dressed
in the fabric of seasons dressed
in cold light calling summer
calling. You slip through
the screens of my windows
beyond the meadow at night you
and me both know it’s been
a while send help. You
watch me wait in bed for E he
flashes on my screen, pixilated.
He is a complex man in summer sharp-
eyed in winter he is a lady in summer
he is a lightening.

Uncle you are a racist for years until you
pass in the winter we both know bugs
don’t have prejudice. You slip through
the screens of my windows we see
the heat dissipate until there is none
left. Uncle I watch you
wind into the web of a spider above the place
where I sleep (if this is not a fever dream send
help). I save you I saved
your carrion. In winter there is wisdom
atop the floorboards of my room when
at night the meadow is still the hay
is baled. E is different
during this time
period (he has yet to exist).
In winter he lies dormant in winter
he is a lady in summer he is a lightening.

 

 

Salty Dog

I am a widow living
with a widow. Together,
we are two girls living

it up in the city! I dispose
of the remains
of my husband

via compost. Look at how
he molds to the skin
of my clementine peels.

He dissipates into espresso
grinds; Oh, how lovely
he is and how he will soon be

shit. Look
at the mess
he has made

via carbon.
What a hot
head.

 

 

we die long

deaths so our families visit across
coasts & country lines to touch
our feet at last. we are 21

with wrinkled mouths. we marry hard
marriages & celebrate the soldering of our hearts
at last. we hang white streamers. we die
hard in october 4 days apart; visitors sit

on the edges of our beds biting
nails. we marry well in some
autumnal season with drunk

relatives. we die along because we are
human at last. lo, our children
write elegies but they resume

with their tiny lives. when we die, we have little
estate. we have porcelain & kitchen
tiles. we marry hard & have children.

February 2014 - Comments Off

gorgeous

Kathryn Henderson '15

first, swallow your hand. your teeth will scrape
along the back of it as it explores
the petals within your throat.

the neck strains. your mouth
will not fit around. your hand
hurts more than your gut.
Read more

February 2014 - Comments Off

Tornado Watch

Molly Kirschner '16

Air hovers blank as page. Mirror glass shatters;
it rains. Sounds like cracking oysters. Looks like pearls
dropping off a necklace. Rolling.
Read more

February 2014 - Comments Off

little hands

Tayler Jones '16

we barefoot hop step
carefully choosing extrusions of moss
over the growl of gnarled street rock
to fig tree canopy.
press thumbnails into leaves, beads
of milk well up like crescent moons
make skin itch.
we speak to the ghost farm
that burned down on this soil,
little fingers fumble through earth
for rusty horse shoes.
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Bennington College: A Heterosexual Galapagos

Sarah Shahzad Shaikh '14

The location is ideally insulated, an island of illusory safety, whether intentionally or not, but how interesting it would be if it were done on purpose, an experiment conducted by someone that wanted to document shattered expectations and chart the trajectory of disillusionment.
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Micro Tyrannus

Parke Haskell '15

Oedipus should have had a hobby.
It couldn’t have hurt. Seashell collections,
glow-in-the-dark lanyard-building, prophecy appreciation. Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

At First She Don’t Succeed

Rachael Meyers '15

At First She Don’t Succeed

I. Try

That night, she 17. She ready. She into him. She love him. He milky white, skinny and gentle, the boy, he feel good. Oh, do the girl have it right, have it tight, have it rough. She feel white tonight. Milk on milk, and cute red pimples – they 17.
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Feet

Natalie Osborne '15

EXT.- MORNING- LAWN

FEET are lying under a tree, resting after a rather wild night of revelry.

Feet are a pair of feet, which are probably attached to some legs, which are attached to a body, which is attached to a head, which all together combine to make a person.

None of that is important.

What is important is that feet are waking up, and finding out that they have lost their shoes.
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Ilunga

Performance by Jordan Ezra '15
Photograph by Jake Riswold '16

January 2014 - Comments Off

Their Home in Thompson, Canada

Colin Hinckley '14

The Webster’s have a mouse problem. They are not cognizant of their problem. If Howard Webster was not such a sound sleeper and his wife, Maureen, did not sleep with earplugs, they, perhaps, would move from Thompson, Canada and never look back. But they reside safely in their REM cycles, Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Queasy

Isaac Dwyer '17

Stop making me dinner, I’m an ungrateful bastard.

You should know that I puked up your lentil
soup in the trash bin outside the dance studio.

It was mostly water and cracked peppercorn
anyways. My stomach’s weak, that’s why
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Stephen As Sergeant

Parke Haskell '15

Of all their many sons, you were called
Sergeant.  You were the first of your brothers
to grow a full head of brains.  They taught you
numbers so that each morning you could count them,
write down their names -- it took hours -- every day Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Breadcrumbs

Andrew Plimpton '14

My grandfather used to leave me trails of breadcrumbs. He would leave the house holding a loaf of bread, dropping crumbs behind him. I would follow at a distance, eating the crumbs as they fell. These journeys took us all around my grandparents’ spacious property, which was separated from the beach by a deep thicket of thorn bushes and trees, wherein lay paths to the beach, an aging boathouse, docks, and other houses. Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Reconfiguration of A$AP Rocky’s Trilla

Hannah Lipper '15

He is draped out or
dripped up, or
cough syrup with twist cap or
down-low like bisexual or
rap video vixen. Or
maybe he is Cartier or
feels falsifiable or
waiting for moon to phase him like lean.

January 2014 - Comments Off

roadtrip

Katie Foster '15

our hands touch three times in omaha
540 miles of mid-west road
i drive the space between us

to meet again, to eat falafel
to navigate beyond the end of things
we touch three times in omaha
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

john henry

Kathryn Henderson '15

I gingham
skirt too light
for february
tights
torn I
cry under
Manhattan
above me rains Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Mighty Taco

Kathryn Henderson '15

Miserable summer, miserly fast food joint.
Slapping tortillas down for you, fingerlicking mass
of flesh and thirst, you, baseball boy, crass
crooked teeth leaking guacamole, point
at the menu: “I want that”. Kid pig, oink, Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Prelude: RhymeRhythm

Graham Pirtle '14

I.

Was I collected
Like the soft rhythms of your daily sweat.
In rhymes of work and rest, made constant.
Like the hymnal or forgiven.
Or did I emerge like darkness from the fire’s dying
Born like lines bare intersects
Without intention Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Dear Little Bat Bird

Anna Eckert-Kramer '15

Dear little bat bird,
head crushed in.

I'm sorry for my stiletto.

I would hate to hurt
a defenseless being.

You must have deserved it.
Read more

January 2014 - Comments Off

Fat Fuck

Graham Pirtle '14

Fat Fuck,

Why do you
Mythologize your friends?
Make adventures out of farting?

You swallow time like useless air,
Swell pipes to clogging wrecks
With your ejaculate.

No, no: it can’t be beautiful,
This wanting to make things so.

January 2014 - Comments Off

Elegy for This-Guy

Graham Pirtle '14

This Guy-
He wants to be uncontainable.
He doesn’t know the first thing
About being uncontainable.
This Guy.

January 2014 - Comments Off

A Reason For

Jeremy Geragotelis '16

Our Vanity (or Why I Can’t Stop Visiting Your Facebook Page)

Someday.
I will open up an exclusive
club
In NEW YORK CITY.
And you won’t be invited
- to its opening -
.
Read more

December 2013 - Comments Off

i’m looking at the drawings

Katie Foster '15

seeing you seeing me
i put your mouth where there’s no mouth
this is how i know you
with my hand

i put your mouth where there’s no mouth
because that’s where i’m feeling it
with my hand
i draw a picture of you

because that’s where i’m feeling it
feeling the edges of your face
i draw a picture of you

December 2013 - Comments Off

dendrochronologist part II

Mary Alice Stewart '17

the pond the children played in was clean
before the children’s children had children.
it was beautiful,
they say.
the kids pulled pieces of smooth drift wood
from the water’s edge,
pretending they were dinosaur bones
and buried them in the mud. Read more

December 2013 - Comments Off

Another Prayer

Molly Kirschner '16

So tilt your head to the wind after the rapture
of rain. Sundry in the field.
Under a tree. In a blob of Rorschach shade.
Read more

December 2013 - Comments Off

Adultolescent

Sumedh Chatterjee '16

Being callous
Is not I
However hard I
Try

A rundown
Of the
Irrational
Frivolously
Controlling
My aural fixation
Read more