University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Walter Weinschenk Sailors flee from landTo leave their pain behind;They cannot bear the loss of loveThat pulsed through armsThat reached for them at night,But grew exhaustedIn the course of time. Sailors are deluded:The ocean offers no asylum;The sea is not a refugeAnd loss cannot be thrown awayOr left upon the wharf;A sailor cannot fly… Continue reading I’ll Be a Sailor
by Sam Kaspar Tattoo Parlor: a superficial looking endeavor gets under your skininner queries waken with the tingling in my limbshelloget in syncInk weariesNice assCanvas, vast expansive, needles prickI stay whole and don’t let it break me thoughI internalize lots of dyeFor a tattered up wolf tatDid I really like it enough to go this… Continue reading Nothing A Doll
by Ramon Jimenez Leather and leftover tires.The wheels of my feet.I felt a superpower when I had them on.I could jump like Jordan and climb like a jaguar. How I struggled to grow upand carve out an identity on this stolen land of America.Huaraches let me stomp on the pride of the occupiers.These slippers of… Continue reading Huaraches
by Joel Bush Scooping two dead ducklingsout of the pool filter,I feel a weightmuch heavier thantheir few ounces inmy hands.I have no bettergrave for their brownand yellow bodiesthan a plastic bag and trash can.Their mother has flownaway, while I’m groundedwith her children. Garden State by Jack Dunnett Joel Bush reads things. He also writes things.… Continue reading Weight
by Danny P. Barbare At the End of the Mica Asphalt Where the mica asphalt road endsin the brushclear water ebbs in the sandy,muddy shore. Shiny bubblespop. Tree roots gnarl inthe open.The navy blue water iswhite capping near and far.Bass boatsskim with a tiny hum. Thehouse on the hill issurrounded by a grassy yard.It’s a… Continue reading At the End of the Mica Asphalt // The Gazebo Alone
by Trisha Chen i tuck myself into a quiet-corner cookie cutter shape of a person, i ignore the bumps, the creaks, the peaks, the valleys, i shine a flashlight at my own pupils in the mirror hoping to see into the dark pitfall, i feel saltwater pushing at my waterline dam. i push against the… Continue reading bitter and better are one vowel apart
by Violet Piper I ache with Love. I have bent over and around myself for months, avoiding the mirror. There I am, though, in the reflection on the subway window, with the tunnel behind me. I look pained and afraid of the pain—like I stubbed my toe on the podium during a public speech. I… Continue reading Throat Awareness and the Unfair Thoughts
by Mary Murray It’s strange to think that your friend has been dead for a decade. The living you’ve done is a betrayal. The pints and crisps in beer gardens, pretending not to be cold; the windy beach walks, wet sand and cold toes. The favourite things you used to share together. For ten years… Continue reading Anniversary // Grief
By Jeff Hersch Jeff Hersch provides analog collages for the modern being. Like his thoughts, these pieces are often constructed in short, frantic spurts of energy, with bursts of self-doubt, though calm and subtle. Also like his thoughts, these pieces represent everyday observations and conclusions about the vast world that erratically suffocates us, with little… Continue reading Non-Partisan Mirror
By Marsha Solomon "Cosmic Choreography." "Allegro." Marsha Solomon’s works “From Rhythm to Form” utilize jewel-like colors, the variation of opacity—from soft washes to thick strokes of impasto—and positive and negative spaces to create a dynamic image, born from nature, emotion and creative force. Solomon's work has been the subject of many solo exhibitions nationally and… Continue reading Cosmic Choreography
Ignatian Literary Magazine 