University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Jim Ross To fend off doers of foul deeds I keep my bedroom door securely locked. The only one I cannot keep away is Death. Death carries a skeleton key good for every door. Tonight, he comes, inserts his key into the cylinder, and turns. The ancient lock rattles as cylinders grind and bolts… Continue reading Night Watch
by Mary P. Chatfield Translation is always about loss as if you were looking through a glass the sight plain enough the tang and the touch missing the skull beneath the word’s skin. Catullus knew this when he described how the great gods came to the wedding feast bearing whole meadows of flowers whole forests… Continue reading Wrestling with Catullus XIV
by BEE LB the heart susceptible to predation takes on symbiosis, allowing for growth, expansion, protection. the way a hummingbird will nest near the hawk— too small to be worth the effort of eating— and too low to be threatened by the jays flying high above. the way a heart will thread closed— an attempt… Continue reading this is how you heal
by William Blackburn saving face with grace, clipping coupons: manufactured cents-off sales, percentages played as gamblers dice whispered and cast aside hoping languid language tranquil resting after diatribe vibrato echoed sneaking on reverberations in slanting timbres across that daily distance from you to me, this chamber, home to homily or simply hominy— all harmonized minor… Continue reading Advertisements
by James Morehead beneath dimmed chandeliers gripping the mic and dripping sweat onto the barricade rushers below. Perhaps I hear sugar hiccups on cheerios or little red come back as I twist my ear plugs tighter to push pack the pulsing bass and distortion pedal screech. I try inventing lyrics: be true my love, be… Continue reading She sings in cursive on the Fillmore stage
by Clint King A spider was spinning a web in Self-Help, even after they sterilized the bookstore, leaving hardly a reader's fingerprint or dog ear folded down. She took my breath away; it was all the advice I ever needed to see this glorious climber lower and raise such a body over stacks of sob… Continue reading A Spider in the Bookstore
by Hannah Mitchell He did not, probably, work with his own hands. A river-god, seated beneath an arch: Unconfined, unlimited, A chemical vessel. Remarkable hills at the foot of the rainbow (The most beautiful of all the colors, A delicate violet, a deep green) Gently exhaled, "We have our joys and sorrows in common." Narcissus… Continue reading The Promotion of Narcissus
by Kenton K. Yee Go ahead, whet your tongue It's fragrant, flavorful—roses for noses. You like its lightness too. It's infiltrating your recipes. Boiling, broiling, sous-vide— them too. You can't imagine root beer without it. This is the way the world ends, not from zest nor sin but spice complacency. Overgrowth by Larissa Hauck Kenton… Continue reading Anise
by Hannah Mitchell Writing always feels like a seance at my desk. The souls of my foremothers rise, Curve, twist themselves through my pen. (They demand I write in pen.) (There will be no erasures.) Let me introduce my hand-me-down heart: At its core, a lamp trimmed With cast-off buttons. (My grandmother's mother couldn't write… Continue reading My Grandmothers Write Through Me
by Erin Jamieson at three in the morning you wake her: how would you like to go on an adventure? her eyes, i imagine, wild & bright with the prospect of time w/ you & even though it’s sleeping & no one is out you drive with her. when i wake i know something is… Continue reading Car Ride
