by Jianna Marie Cedeno Until the day she died, my grandmother made café con leche and avena every morning—sweet and creamy. a hint of bitterness. She stirred until milk forgot it was milk, until sugar disappeared into itself— unbleached linen, a vestige of our ancestors. Under midday sun, sticky cane juice soaked into raw palms… Continue reading My Dear Sugar
Category: Poetry
Water Memory
by Marie Hoffman The milky white water rolls over me in gentle waves, set in motion by my legs lifting out and resting on the edge of the bathtub. The sleek white panels coated in steam take me into a milky white memory of the white hallway that trails on forever, the window I peer… Continue reading Water Memory
EPIPHANY IN THREE LONELY PARTS
by Aria Shum Owl Reluctant to Leave the Mountains by Rebecca Pyle Aria Shum is a poet and prose writer from Chicago. Her work is published/forthcoming in Small Orange Journal, Eunoia Review, After Hours, and more, which can be found at aria-shum.carrd.co. She is currently studying violin performance at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.… Continue reading EPIPHANY IN THREE LONELY PARTS
DEAR SEAGULL
by Egan Walker Egan James Walker is a writer and artist based in California. He enjoys hand sewing, learning about the life cycle of the salmon, and listening to My Chemical Romance.
The Soul Has No Need for a Cybertruck
by Laura Booth The soul has no need for a Cybertruck, although the soul needs love, and to move, freely, on Boisduval’s blue wings, from shadow to sun in a shimmering line, from lupine to lupine, and to drink wine sometimes in a field, exclaiming at night’s volley of a star. The soul does not… Continue reading The Soul Has No Need for a Cybertruck
AT THE FILLMORE
by Laura Booth Post–strawberry vape smells like Sex Wax. Beer. Blue strobe. Rock unzips my brain. Laura Booth is a biologist working in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area and a student in USF’s Master of Science in Environmental Management program. She hosts an open mic at Black Bird Bookstore in the Outer Sunset. Her… Continue reading AT THE FILLMORE
Blue Period
by Blue Fay [AUTOEROTICA] Blue came to me like Venus in reverse shirtless at dawn on the shoulder of the freeway I was fourteen-years-old my life was as long as a sonnet and Blue threatened me with it the car was totalled crushed into the shape of the clamshell Blue climbed out of a man… Continue reading Blue Period
Tall and Narrow
by Abigail Jensen I’ve never known anyone to get excitedat the sight of a penis, says the privileged cis lesbianin all her honest beauty and gloryafter throwing back a shot ofoverpriced vodka. She rests her forearms on the sticky barand whips her head in my direction.I glare back while the others chuckle. Whenever we stumble… Continue reading Tall and Narrow
poisson d’avril
by Luke Horsey this city was meant to be the surrogate father of the prankthat was played in my first love’s arms, back on the north London fringe in my teensand now you’re recycling the joke: it may well have been salt you were rubbing into my backas I folded in your arms like a… Continue reading poisson d’avril
Dive Bars
by Sarah Bess Jaffe We watched Bin Laden get shot through the window of an Irish pub in Queens. Well, we didn’t see it but, you know. I thought you were such a big deal. We were sunbitten that day. Remember when we liked the guy in charge,in spite of everything? We rode our bikes everywhere,stuck on the BQE’s hot ribbon,for a daylong noon… Continue reading Dive Bars
Ignatian Literary Magazine 