University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by V.A Wiswell 2022 My earliest memory is of violence. It follows me like a shadow. A lost dog. A nightmare. My sister Katelyn is singing “Landslide” from top to bottom, over and over, as we walk alongside the empty two-lane road after a full day of swimming at the lake. We’re almost home when… Continue reading Landslide
by Ilma Qureshi fireflies can you catch a poem like a firefly?flickering through nettles andrising oak trees,does a poem ever lay still? does wisdomlike ripe plumsfall from branches or does one make senseby drawing watercasket after casketfrom a swollen well? just when you think of life as a beautiful orchidfull of oranges and unknown wonder,your… Continue reading fireflies
by Heikki Huotari The anthem is a function of the feedback, Jimi Hendrix, may your serenade goout untamed. You may have won a hundred years a hundred years ago. Therepartee has been upgraded, that's what they say. Put the entities together in aroom and they'll sing kumbaya in unison. The power outage was the doing… Continue reading Everything Except The Carbon Sink II
by Joel Bush Scooping two dead ducklingsout of the pool filter,I feel a weightmuch heavier thantheir few ounces inmy hands.I have no bettergrave for their brownand yellow bodiesthan a plastic bag and trash can.Their mother has flownaway, while I’m groundedwith her children. Garden State by Jack Dunnett Joel Bush reads things. He also writes things.… Continue reading Weight
by Steve Petkus Emboldened by the nipper of ginthat was his only supperin the rental car between viewings,the dead man’s son returnstwenty minutes late and tripson the carpet, knocks a lampfrom the table nearest the casket.“Damn it,” he spits, and a steely hushfalls on those gathered for the day’sfinal session. In diminished lightthe son grimaces,… Continue reading Hapless
by Ramon Jimenez Leather and leftover tires.The wheels of my feet.I felt a superpower when I had them on.I could jump like Jordan and climb like a jaguar. How I struggled to grow upand carve out an identity on this stolen land of America.Huaraches let me stomp on the pride of the occupiers.These slippers of… Continue reading Huaraches
by Victor Pambuccian it took a meetingfor us to noticethat neither windnor wavesnor rolling thunderare neededfor a green fruitinvisiblesoft to theunavailable touchus embracingthe airwith that look oflemon scentat dawnto ripenon its ownin the absenceof holding handslocked-together eyesthe sound ofbreathingthe maddening silenceof a smileit's as ifthe separating spacethe individual habitsthe patterns of sleepthe fading memoryall conspiringare… Continue reading how could we ever not know
by Sam Kaspar Tattoo Parlor: a superficial looking endeavor gets under your skininner queries waken with the tingling in my limbshelloget in syncInk weariesNice assCanvas, vast expansive, needles prickI stay whole and don’t let it break me thoughI internalize lots of dyeFor a tattered up wolf tatDid I really like it enough to go this… Continue reading Nothing A Doll
by Walter Weinschenk Sailors flee from landTo leave their pain behind;They cannot bear the loss of loveThat pulsed through armsThat reached for them at night,But grew exhaustedIn the course of time. Sailors are deluded:The ocean offers no asylum;The sea is not a refugeAnd loss cannot be thrown awayOr left upon the wharf;A sailor cannot fly… Continue reading I’ll Be a Sailor
by Mariam Ahmed where do dreams gowhen we awaken? they dissipate intounknown dimensions a portal opens siphoningair from my lungs why is it harder to breathewhen I’mwith you? my oncewild thoughts turning stale quick afteryou spoke so soft leave my bleeding hearton this tray table I’m in no upright position when the oxygenmask fallsI won’t reach for it the barest… Continue reading Saturation: A Sequence
Ignatian Literary Magazine 