University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Matt A. Hanson from a dimming bow the high bright clouds cumulate / shades of light orange descending / gray blues / mountains faded against sharp stone bare seafront foundations giving way to the dark green / dusk-lit forests as still as the mast of a lone sailboat / white in the distance, surrounded … Continue reading Blue Voyage II
by Ingrid Marie Jensen ‘Where’ve you been all my life?’ Jack Harris asks with a crooked smile, both incandescent and terrifying, that’s real charm along with eyes like Lake Michigan in a storm and an expensive suit. he’s somebody special and don’t he know it! song slides off slick vinyl, filling the air like a… Continue reading Billie, 1933
by Dahlia R. Trigger Warning: Alcoholism/Emotional Neglect Head pounding and bones aching beneath those bamboo sheets— just a sip would turn the throbbing into a dull ache, but the shelf was right by your room. By that hallway and that photo of me holding you on our stone steps at 5 pounds and 2 ounces— … Continue reading Erysichthon
by Colten Dom My hands turn to your back like tonight’s sky, gleaming somewhere in an ancestral skull revealed by a retreating glacier— reconvened after a cloudy evening, squinting, kneading familiar structures, lines of gravity placing each stain as I find it. Freckles metastasize; stars pull and are themselves pulled. You touch my skin to… Continue reading Constellation
by Ashley Hardin I’m sorry if you asked me a question and there was no reply. I was in the middle of listening to my invasive thoughts about a peculiar conflict in front of me. One-third of my grandparents’ circular ottoman was missing its light brown leather top straight down. This error had started to grow… Continue reading OCD
by Margaret E. Gillio I fell in love on a bus ride down the southern coast of Turkey. Steep roads, rickety bus, and views of Mediterranean blue. This memory saves me and your father from suffocation. 2:00am during the pandemic. I lie awake, microwaving peas in my mind. Spaghetti. Fried rice. Meals you and your brother… Continue reading Letter to My Teenage Daughter
by Rigby Martin He smells like Bergamot and honey, especially on his neck where my lips last lingered. When I found him, he smelled like roses and linden with hints of smoke and haze. The scent permeated throughout with the resonance of salt on his sleeves. I thought I saw wildflowers and sage from the… Continue reading Flavors
by Tanisha E. Khan Snapdragons, wild garlic, her loose armshugging closed her cardigans, touringyou around her garden. You visited herfor two weeks each summer. How strange —The Grandmother, by Kayla Czaga (i) toronto your eyelashes catch on jagged edges,around twists of brass flowers caked in dirt—a lock,rusted and half-remembered, with grit in… Continue reading summers with nan
by Liam Strong Song of Morning by Marsha Solomon Liam Strong (they/them) is a queer neurodivergent cripple punk writer and author of the chapbook Everyone's Left the Hometown Show (Bottlecap Press, 2023). Find them on Instagram/Twitter: @beanbie666. https://linktr.ee/liamstrong666. Marsha Solomon has exhibited nationally and internationally in galleries and museums for many years. Her abstract paintings… Continue reading fruit cake
by Julia Rose Merante Goldfish by Pia Quintano Julia Rose Merante recently adopted a tuxedo cat named Eleanor, folds her laundry against her will, and has killed every plant she's ever owned. After finishing law school in New York, Julia regained the brainpower to reignite her love for creative writing. Her work has found homes… Continue reading forgetful grieving & pond depression
Ignatian Literary Magazine 