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 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 Cedar Clark Content warning: eating disorder Fragments of you,scattered across the plate as if hunger could be foldedinto the corners of your napkin. You carvethe emptiness with a forkfilling the voidwith whispers of control, counting every breathlike a calorie. A cruel illusionof bone and shadows. In the quiet of the kitchen,you measure worthin empty… Continue reading The Disease of Perfectionists
by Margaret E. Gillio I fell in love on a bus ride down the southern coast of Turkey. Steep roads, rickety bus, and views of Mediterranean blue. This memory saves me and your father from suffocation. 2:00am during the pandemic. I lie awake, microwaving peas in my mind. Spaghetti. Fried rice. Meals you and your brother… Continue reading Letter to My Teenage Daughter
by Rigby Martin He smells like Bergamot and honey, especially on his neck where my lips last lingered. When I found him, he smelled like roses and linden with hints of smoke and haze. The scent permeated throughout with the resonance of salt on his sleeves. I thought I saw wildflowers and sage from the… Continue reading Flavors
by Tanisha E. Khan Snapdragons, wild garlic, her loose armshugging closed her cardigans, touringyou around her garden. You visited herfor two weeks each summer. How strange —The Grandmother, by Kayla Czaga (i) toronto your eyelashes catch on jagged edges,around twists of brass flowers caked in dirt—a lock,rusted and half-remembered, with grit in… Continue reading summers with nan
by Liam Strong Song of Morning by Marsha Solomon Liam Strong (they/them) is a queer neurodivergent cripple punk writer and author of the chapbook Everyone's Left the Hometown Show (Bottlecap Press, 2023). Find them on Instagram/Twitter: @beanbie666. https://linktr.ee/liamstrong666. Marsha Solomon has exhibited nationally and internationally in galleries and museums for many years. Her abstract paintings… Continue reading fruit cake
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
Ignatian Literary Magazine 