University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
Issue 35
by K Roberts They dug up the time capsule ahead of schedule. Loganville High needed a new gym, so the statue of our mascot, Jersey Jerry, was uprooted along with the southeast parking lot and a laptop-sized locked metal box intended to be buried for a century. The treasure chest had lasted 52 years, and… Continue reading Time Capsule
by Rosalind Kaplan When I started writing, I listened to the advice of teachers and other writers to write what you know. So I wrote about the world of medicine, being a med student, a doctor, and the things that nobody tells you ’til you’re too far in to turn around. I wrote about mothering,… Continue reading I Won’t Waste Your Time
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 Thomas Elson They took no classes together, and, after that first year, never attended the same school, but somewhere, inside the scattered years of their lives, there were yearbooks. He drives more slowly than he used to, even more slowly today, through the empty school parking lot for the first time in fifty-eight years.… Continue reading Years & Yearbooks
by Siavash Saadlou My cousin Meysam says that my father wasn’t exactly made for war. “He would get misty-eyed,” he says, “as soon as you read him a poem.” My eyes glaze over a photo of Mahmoud with regret as I hear These words—in the photo he is standing on a rooftop in his Uniform,… Continue reading Words and Lives
by Mary P. Chatfield Dear Mr. and Mrs. Mansfield, I am writing to thank you when I want to be writing a poem for your generous gift to our year-end appeal. my appeal is always for a poem about how the streetlight turns the snow the color of lemon sherbet, how the geese honk and… Continue reading Charity Case
by Daniel Pié Susan’s question lingers in her unmistakable, raspy alto as I approach the portico entrance to the mortuary. My legs quake under the weight of unsaddled emotion. My hollowed-out stomach creaks, needing to be fed but allowing nothing to enter except for the occasional piece of dry toast. I slip a thumb behind… Continue reading Obituary
by L.A. Clark We could have had some fun together, you and I. I can admit that to myself now. At least when you were little, I think it would have been good times. I have a way with babies and toddlers. I love them, and they love me in return. Mostly what it takes… Continue reading You and I
by Mila Danilov I wake to darkness so opaque, I can’t see my hand in front of my own face. My limbs are clammy with salt-water air and I inhale the smell of my skin. It doesn’t smell of anything but residual bug spray. No warmth or familiarity. In the darkness, I can see a… Continue reading Juene
by Hannah Epstein I first properly met Madeleine at a birthday party in Teresa’s backyard back in the sixth grade. Before that, we had only seen each other in passing when our teachers would have us leave the school building in neat lines for recess. When I saw her back then, before I really knew… Continue reading Madeleine
Ignatian Literary Magazine 