University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Syan Mohiuddin Yellow Dog by Pia Quintano Syan Mohiuddin is a poet from Dhaka, Bangladesh who is currently studying for a BA in English Literature. His works are slated to appear in the South Dakota Review and the Bacopa Literary Review. Pia Quintano is an NYC-based writer/artist who especially likes to work with animals.… Continue reading The Line Cook
by Nicholas Barnes god, poetry is embarrassing. this electron microscope shows every pore, each curling scar. and jesus, how humiliating. this brittle life of decay. this rhino skin i’m in. i wake in a fevered sweat in the middle of the night. flipping through the waterlogged photo album in my head. the frames are overexposed.… Continue reading typo
by Julia Rose Merante Goldfish by Pia Quintano Julia Rose Merante recently adopted a tuxedo cat named Eleanor, folds her laundry against her will, and has killed every plant she's ever owned. After finishing law school in New York, Julia regained the brainpower to reignite her love for creative writing. Her work has found homes… Continue reading forgetful grieving & pond depression
by Keathley Pinney Brown At 2:42 am, she crept toward the stumpunder a sky draped heavy with night.The inlet hummed and rippled, the soundof air winging down the mountains, the ocean windfighting its way inland to the marshy dark. To her right, water lapped at the damp shore and sang a seafoam song. Sand fleas slept… Continue reading Changing Shades
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 Jackson Connor During my first sophomore year of college, having recently joined the math major after giving up my pursuit of engineering, I spent a lot of time learning how to smoke cigarettes. An old-school autodidact by nature, I mostly learned through observing my peers, my family, and Robert De Niro. Categorically, I figured… Continue reading The Cigarette Artist
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 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 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
Ignatian Literary Magazine 