University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Jaden Fong I. Wooden pier splintersbattle the indigo threadsstationed on the bottomsof our newly fading jeans. Our frozen breaths weavewith hot umami steam andconcocts something newamidst the creaking sea. Clumsy, bulbous clumpsof San Francisco sourdoughtossed about carelessly throughthe air like birthday confetti— into the mouths of fishes belowin the bay, between the woodslats, on… Continue reading Eating Clam Chowder with Mom
by MK Punky Confess with me on supplicating kneesI've never known you in the flesh We sinnersunderstand the knotty eschatologypledged by unknown authorscleansing the affront of ignorancewith a soapy rag of certaintyall of us Saint Paulsslinging imprecations at a heathen worldcloser to annihilation than salvation To know you lordI must make love to you lordhear… Continue reading Knowing
by Tamara J. Madison for MariOla (“Mama”) who gave us everything she had… Note: Twilight sleep was an amnesic state commonly induced during the early twentieth century by the injection of certain drugs to provide pain relief during and also erase the memory of childbirth. Your breath rushes.Your voice breaks the air. Your body, my… Continue reading Twilight Baby
by Mariya Mykhaylova I took my heart out last nightBound with nerves,Dressed with tears,And served it rare. A new cavity, spacious and emptyMy lungs took up the newfound roomThe heart—you didn’t know what to do—Mostly pushed it around on your plate. You rarely show your soft belly,All of your organs in their rightful place.Suddenly I… Continue reading I Took my Heart Out Last Night
by Madi Giovina after Micheal McCann lying together,bodies loud & mouths quiet,morning becomes night becomes morning again we don't know how much time has passed but the sun has risen & set & risen again & we have risen & set & risen & set & laughed & sweat & laughed & sweat & the shadow… Continue reading orbitals
by Josephine Clapp You said our world has become a cyclonethe people around usare at the center.Trying to lureus in. You’re wrong. You are the cyclone.Looking into your eyes—somehow feels like reaching outtowards the eye of the stormthat is you and I. Reeking of Sound by Jack Dunnett Josephine Clapp is a freshman at Key… Continue reading Cyclone
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 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 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 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
