Introduction

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

On Letting a Friend Go

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.

I Will Stay With You

By Abby Rogers

My hands
Your heart

Our short sweet
Time is ticking

Your hands
My heart

Our love
Forever sticking

When you no longer
Hear the sound
Of my voice in your ears
Still ringing

You’ll know that my hand
Is on your heart
And for you
I’ll forever be singing

Personality Symptoms

By Chlöe Green

Once the urge of scattered scolding scorching secluded stimulants

Have their take

Sweet hysteria subtly sweeps synonyms from the graft of my tongue

Twice I mark up my face

Told it would suit my deprecating eyes

Passing the fingertips of my empty guts and watered down heart leaving no room for a tender kiss to fix my cracked lips

Three times told there’s no need to skin my skin of its natural pheromones secretly sweeping through the open pores of my yellow tone

Fourth Fragile scream embellishing from my swollen lids can only lead the collision of rain water to a sewage drain

Even numbers are so appreciative of their form

precise picking of their perfect placements pressured from the given standard they withhold from the odds

I was read the symptoms in my living room with all of my roomates

Personality seems to condense itself into a pill

Please portray perfect panic only if there’s something so scorn that seeks sex which stabs ever so

sweetly granting me an escape from my personality

After being told my whole life, will I still smile?

Wildfire

By Arianna Delmaestro

By early autumn, the gardens are overgrown;
bushes and shrubs climb through the brush, reaching
over and tearing down;
piles of arms of legs of limbs tangled,
green so bright it’s bleeding from the leaves, so when
November comes, she paints them with her own blood.

It’s kind of like us, isn’t it?
Living.

Wild raspberry branches pull my knit sweater, and I think, Nature is ruthless–
vines will smother their sisters to survive. And
I think, That’s kind of like you, isn’t it? Not meaning harm,
just setting your tunnel-vision on the sun
and grasping for whatever you can to pull yourself up.

Potted plants can have a preferred pH and light level, but
you grew up through the sidewalk cracks. And now
it’s 10 autumns later, and the brush reaches
like dry, wrinkled hands into the road where drivers flick their cigarettes and I think,
I think that’s how fires start, isn’t it?

Happiness

By Abby Rogers

happiness is never fully true
there is no realistic
absence of melancholy
this is something
we might not process
upon first glance
but sunflowers get it
for in the middle of the sun
is the moon

Friendship Flowersong

By JK. G

My friend, carry some flowers, fill both your arms and
chest, Let them thrive within your heart as
You travel, and travel
And travel even more
Homesick, tired, let Xolotl guide you,
Keep you safe,
Travel wetlands, dry lands, flat or mountainous.
Beat your drum in response to my rhythm,
Keep in mind our friendship, pumpkin flower,
May it fill your stomach, nourishing,
And drink from a golden cup
Soft cocoa.
Sing of your travels and adventures,
Turquoise songs through the wind,
Stand up, my friend,
Elated take your flowers to the drum:
Your bitterness flees,
With every beat, your inner drum gives,
Be glad and joyous throughout,
You are my friend,
Raise your head, carry some flowers.

Difference Between Lemons & Limes

By Charlie Black

Standing
The youngest person in the bar
This Is not where I belong
This place is not made for me
And yet I feel It is the perfect place for me because
Their hands
Pendulums swinging
From the microphone into the air
And back again
Tugging at a black shirt collar
I am perfectly content to spend the rest of my night
Dancing and yet unmoving
Unafraid of staring into their eyes
Of finding myself wishing that my leg hair was darker
My hair
Darker
Just like theirs
Because I still don’t know the difference between wanting someone And wanting to be them
Between desire and envy
Perhaps there is no difference
After all
Being and having become so intertwined
And so often
People find themselves
A part of someone else
Swaying
Feeling
The concrete floor resonate through my kneecaps
Their voice dripping dark and sour
Stinging my ears I’ve only ever wanted to be more than me once
Before now

The City, Part 1

By Emily Zielinski

I fear the pigeons will eat my bagel
If I venture into the cement-filled streets of New York City.
I got a poppy seed one today,
The cream cheese overflowed from the edges.
I always get butter- I should have gotten butter
But my curiosity pulled me into the corner store
To get this cheap bagel with its cheap cream cheese.
The grains got all stuck in my teeth making my smile stand out far too much.
The kids on the street all laugh at me,
And so I laugh at myself, and suddenly the seeds fall out of my mouth.
I throw away the bagel and keep walking up the street.