Renaissance
2022-2023
Introduction
By Marley Reedy
By Marley Reedy
a.
compared to eternity
the movie seems
short and blunt
beginning and ending
unlike time in
a blue blue blue
infinite room
miles above America.
next to an old couple
a man (aisle seat) and woman (middle)
shes watching spencer
I (window) have lost track of the movie writing this
I wonder what the director is like in person
and what the woman might think of the french
and what home means to her
and what her husband is watching.
the captain calls
if you look to the left
you may watch the horizon burn
crimson orange and pale pink
b.
the woman asks me for the time
asks me to shine a light
on her thin wrist
the change in longitude throws me
against the stark black dome
millions of miles blur pinholes of
stars scattered by an upturned bowl
poured over rows and rows of floating
people in white noise
against the stark black dome
millions of miles blur pinholes of
stars scattered by an upturned bowl
poured over rows and rows of floating
people in white noise
and hushed tones
I can’t be certain
I can’t stop peering out the window at the endless starry sky
her watch, like the small window
counts time against a
box of timeless
Passengers,
to the left,
morning breaking,
soft blue and orange-yellow
IT’S NOT YOU, IT’S THEM
By Betsy Allen
By Betsy Allen
1.
my heart will always ache for you because
because loving you felt like loving me but
but loving him feels like choosing me and—
and i have never chosen me.
and he makes me feel special
special the way you made me feel special but
in the real way
in the right this second way
in the it’s me he loves and not the idea of me way
in the getting to know me love me way
and not in the knowing me without knowing me love me way
2.
you talked of twin flames and i think i get it now
because twins–twins
are souls separated and i needed you to love me because you were me
but i don’t need him i want him
3.
needing someone is like losing air slowly—
quiet and then loud all at once
and i’m so tired of noise.
needing you was like eating
and you know how i hate eating—
needing you is not the same as wanting is not the same as choosing is not the same as loving is not the
same as
i’m so tired now
4.
sleeping is like dreaming is like needing is like living
i am sleeping now
and it is so so sweet.
mom told dad to invite him to dinner
make chicken cutlets, Tonkatsu for the American Boy
the song on the radio tells me to just be.
dad plays guitar the way i majored in psychology—
a little, not really, but enough to hand out criticisms
he is here with stubborn fingers reaching out to the boy he just cooked for.
mom, dad, and sister think he’s like honey
sweet, so sweet, with a sunny disposition, an appealing aftertaste
his friends are calling him asian-fucker and i remember how much i hate honey.
5.
losing you felt like losing me and
and i should never have to lose me
and loving you felt like needing you
and needing is not the same as choosing is not the same as loving
but
at
least
your
friends
didn’t
tokenize
me—
Rag Doll
By Izzy
By Izzy
sometimes i think about the old days,
how you grabbed my limb body and claimed me as if i were a prize you had won
only thinking about your personal victories and not my costs,
as i became your rag doll.
i thought you were restitching my strings back together
taking the damages and making me better than before,
but when i look back i can only see the holes you ripped in my foundation,
as you left me to fall apart in your arms
i longed for what you did to me,
i longed for you to rip me into shreds,
for my bones to bend and eventually break as i watched my resistance towards you
slowly fade away,
and i starved for the way you put my discarded pieces back together like paper mache,
how after leaving me alone in the dark you would untie me and hold me tight against
your chest as you whispered in my ear that i was your favorite.
and it didn’t matter that i was wasting away,
that the words you spoke contradicted your very being,
it only mattered that i was yours
and nothing prepared me for the day when you decided to move on,
that you didn’t want to play with rag dolls anymore,
that all the tears i cried over you and the stains you left in my very fabric meant nothing,
that every string you left hanging and every inch of damage you left on my mind was all i
would ever be,
and sometimes i want to cry even shout
as i long for you to slap me, even destroy me so i know you’re still there.
but as i sit in the void of our memories,
in the endless cassette that plays in my mind,
i now realize that i have never been yours,
that despite the way i may crave you, even miss you
i should have never been under your control.
i can now see that the way you used me is not who i am
as i am not a toy on your shelf,
especially not a rag doll.
Glasses
By Erin Winship
By Erin Winship
everytime i see you, i make a plan in my head.
how can i attract your attention to me?
what can i do that will catch your eye?
if you look at me, what can i do to make you miss me?
what can i do to make you like me?
if i walk by you, will you watch me walk by?
if i sit in your eyeline, will i catch your eyes on me?
these are the thoughts that go through my mind when i see you.
but deep in my heart, i know that you can’t even see me
cause you aren’t wearing your fucking glasses
On Letting a Friend Go
By Lou Foust
By Lou Foust
You told me you would grab your umbrella,
And I put on the sweater I kept next to my raincoat in my closet.
As we headed out the door I noticed you weren’t beside me, and
I looked back at you standing at the top of the stairs
safely under the balcony, opening your umbrella.
You smiled, but not back at me-
At something I couldn’t hear that she said in your ear.
You opened your black umbrella and I stood under it with you.
The cold water slowly dripped on my shoulder,
Seeping into the cloth.
plunk, plunk, plunk like a little drum above our heads.
I shivered
And didn’t give it a second thought.
As we walked you laughed,
And joy came over me watching you listen to her.
I was happy we were exploring the city together again,
Until a melancholy weight swept past
Not two weeks ago
We would’ve had no problem walking
side-by-side.
The clasp of the umbrella bounced off my forehead
Again, again, again, as you walked
And I was uncomfortable,
Shrinking and crumpling myself to stay dry under your umbrella.
You bounced gleefully through puddles,
and I kept smiling without saying a word.
Really if I spoke you wouldn’t have heard me anyway.
You walked faster,
and I trudged forward, suddenly realizing how hungry I was.
The rain picked up
From plunk plunk plunk like a little drum
to a parade rumbling celebratorily.
And I was walking at funny angles trying to stay dry with you.
As we came to the corner
I pulled back on the hood of your jacket
as a car raced by.
We chuckled awkwardly together,
Understanding that you were so interested in talking to her, you weren’t paying attention.
But when the road was clear
you picked up the pace again,
and my grumbling stomach started to get the better of me.
My arms were growing tired and weak,
And soon I knew I’d have to sit down.
I couldn’t seem to muster the energy to keep up.
Finally, you walked too close to a road sign.
I couldn’t stay beside you, and I fell back
With every intention of catching back up
But I tripped and just hung my head.
I sat down on the curb and held my hungry stomach.
Salty rain ran down my back, through my hair, and into my mouth.
And my coat sucked it all up,
making my shoulders too heavy to get back up.
When I turned my head, thinking I might call out
I saw you glowing as the clouds parted just for you
And you bounced gleefully through puddles,
Laughing at whatever she was saying.
I felt relief as my shoulders lifted just a little.
But I couldn’t help but think
that I should have worn my raincoat.
