University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Brett Biebel I’d had sex before I met Davey, but not much, and it was mostly unsatisfying. With guys who were real earnest. Too earnest, probably. Like you could tell they prided themselves on respect, but maybe it was all just a pantomime of respect, and they were only doing it so they could… Continue reading The Boy Martyr
by Alexis Pearson If not for my bare shoulder unexpectedly caressing your cheek stamping the beginning of a prolonged goodbye into the raw breath of strangers still I would not know how to turn walls into boats, your hands a sea with no bed my feet dangling. If learning to tread water means first drowning… Continue reading Glass Cages
by Stephen Mead The paper cuts, the finger bleeds, but a clot comes, & will the pages stain? Try different parchment, re-do or remake a pattern of the red. Has the hand been through a lawnmower? Are razors seen in sheets? Faithless but for masochism, no deep trust but for the overboard & loving the… Continue reading Listen
by Huina Zheng TW: mentions of abduction, human trafficking, abortion, rape, sexism? Even though I took Gaokao, the national college entrance examination in China, over a decade ago, I dream that I am taking the exams at least once a year. In the dream, everything is dark and blurry. In a classroom where other examinees… Continue reading The Pilgrimage of Gaokao
by Erik Peters “What are you afraid of?” “Nothing,” I lied. “Then get in the water!” “No, I don’t want to.” The sun beat down from above and the sand radiated heat from below. I was beginning to panic. I wouldn’t have come on the bike ride if I’d known we would end up at… Continue reading Sea Monsters
by Caelan Beard Dear Rie, Today I found the album you brought over with you from Holland. There are photos of you laughing along country fields with your friends, and tangled together in a pile on the beach. You look like you had fun. Your gang of five litters much of the album, which I’d… Continue reading Dear Rie
by Daniel Webre Everywhere I looked, I could see ships’ sails. Odd for a parking lot with no water. I thought at first that a show was in progress, like the ones the old men hold on Saturdays with their classic cars. Since these were sails, I’d expected boats, but there were none. Instead, the… Continue reading Sails
—Lorne Balfe, from The Last Man on the Moon by Maya Jacyszyn I've never pictured heaven with a front porch, or much of heaven really, but it comes to me now clearly. There are no clouds. Why do paintings always show clouds? And so much light? I suppose upward means clouds and light, but up… Continue reading Sitting on God’s Front Porch
by Caitlin Upshall He called it the color of envy. The old tales say that it was once his color. His armies wore it while they conquered the world. But soon, the armies became the rebels, and the world grew smaller behind tall walls. The rebels used the color as the only mockery they could… Continue reading Remember Your Blue
by Alejandra Pena February 23, 2021 at 9:36 A.M. I stop living and I start again in a matter of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, but not years. Never years. Death is fleeting. Death has to make its mark and return to haunt. It enclouds and it overwhelms. Death hovers over with the promise that… Continue reading Self Portrait in Colors
Ignatian Literary Magazine 