University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Casey McConahay “WHEN AM I GONNA LOSE YOU” - LOCAL NATIVES It was during the pandemic—during the early weeks when everything felt uncertain—and when we sat on your porch together, you told me about the boxes you were disinfecting and about how your sister, who was worried about you, would be upset that we… Continue reading Mixtape
by Cynthia J. Roman Cabrera I wish I understood my mother’s mystery. I feel the sting like a bang on my funny bone when people share positive memories of their mothers. I am envious of people who know their mothers. I know my mother by association. We are kinfolk, but not chosen folk. I would… Continue reading Rootlessness
by Molly Seale The songs I learned first were church songs. The others—Itsy Bitsy Spider, Row, Row Row Your Boat, Happy Wanderer— came later. But the songs I learned from the Methodist Hymnal, before I could even read from the Methodist Hymnal, came to me earlier: another part of learning words and an understanding that… Continue reading Singing With My Father
by Anna Tjeltveit And suddenly we are comforting each other,my hand on your shoulder, yours on my heart,resting in uncertainty. “Your faith is enough,”I say, though now I am an unbeliever.You hold me closer, but silence sits between us still. I believed in you, behind the altar,yours the pulpit, yours the pews. In the children’s homily,… Continue reading My Mother and I Reflect on My Atheism
by Joe Bisicchia We may fear the tired, no longer gold mustard,all the now sky blackened gel of who we werein the dark Whirlpool, old in the shuttered cold.Yes, check our chests to see if we’ve expired. Goodness, is there not a song within our souls?Are we not still same as all who orbit eternity?The… Continue reading Inner Space
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
Ignatian Literary Magazine 