University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Jamilla VanDyke-Bailey his name was andrew and he was everything my father wasn’t. tall. angular. dull auburn skin with hands that build. uncle andrew of drive-by drop-bys to fix up my father's house for an underhanded price. now i only know him sick from a disease that eats. his skin now stretched tight across… Continue reading his name [is/was/forever will be] andrew
by Malcolm Culleton Reply to: Ride offered to Dallas 3/19 (UNO) Craigslist ID: grk4x-3685879461 Sunday, March 17th 2013 Hello, I might be interested in riding with you to Dallas. I have spent much of the year traveling the country, have been in New Orleans for a few months now and am about ready to go… Continue reading Ride Wanted
by Zan Miller The Denny’s Line Cook I worked as a server at Denny’s when I was 20. I lived up in Cumberland in February; dirty snow clung to my white snow boots. There was nowhere to sit in the “smoker’s area”—the buckets were set up beside the dumpster. He worked as a line cook… Continue reading The Ones I Almost Loved
by Caleb Coy There are two reasons that the road goes on forever. The first is that roads are always connected. The second is that you will circle around them when you are utterly lost, not merely out of direction but out of the space you move in. And there’s a third reason. The road… Continue reading Buckling Interstate 80-40
by Kyle Lauderman Baileystown never grieved harder than the day Sam Morris let that out-of-towner Ally into his life. Sam Morris was one of us. His grandaddy built Baileystown from the ground up, taking on the inhospitable Nevada terrain and forging this land into the fine, humble town he knew it could be. When Sam’s… Continue reading Mrs. Morris
by Caelan Beard Dear Ruth, My parents live now just a few kilometres from where you grew up. I’ve been past your childhood house with its piano you loved. The mill where your father, Albert, made the family’s livelihood sits across the street, hovering above the Saugeen. Straddling the river is the bridge you used… Continue reading Dear Ruth
by Laine Derr At 51, recalling a weathered father,I order a gin martini, light vermouthw/ a twist. He froze to death on a daylike this, a man no longer a man– The crisp air reminds me of him. Swirling memories, the doctors saypain has tunneled to my wrists, yearsof standing up, bagging and checking,paper or… Continue reading Light Vermouth
by Jong Yun Won For four months I walk the streets of Incheondesperate for egg rolland sour kimchi-jjigae.So stricken by diaspora without a recipeI land in YouTube, watch a fifty second clipof a white woman teach me culture.How wretched.You roll the egg onto itselfwhich makes a cloud-like textureas long as you know how heat works.You… Continue reading Gae-Lan-Mari
by Sylvester Kwakye Before you kiss a reptile, be sure your lips are dead. before the picnic started,a viper had kissed her calf but she kept discussinghow it tasted her endurancewas soon a heart attack a face filled with rivuletof demise that little creature was goneforever. to begin a new life our doubts saw its… Continue reading Before you kiss a reptile, be sure your lips are dead.
by Mariam Ahmed where do dreams gowhen we awaken? they dissipate intounknown dimensions a portal opens siphoningair from my lungs why is it harder to breathewhen I’mwith you? my oncewild thoughts turning stale quick afteryou spoke so soft leave my bleeding hearton this tray table I’m in no upright position when the oxygenmask fallsI won’t reach for it the barest… Continue reading Saturation: A Sequence
Ignatian Literary Magazine 