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 Deirdre Hickey When I was only eleven you called me Aphrodite, sticking your finger into my hips, when my body first began to look a little more like yours. Already you told me I had what you wanted, a body ripe like a hummingbird, smooth fruit of sliced peach, bones dripping with sweet wine,… Continue reading They Long to Be (Close to You)
by Lena Beck 5:50 a.m. Gina filled the kettle with tap water and rested it on the stove coil. After flipping a switch to the left of the stovetop, the coil lightened to a warm red. She pressed her hands together and looked around. Everything else was done. Each square formica table was pristine: napkins… Continue reading Lunchtime at the Spaceworks Cafe
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 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 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
by Alex Starr Time has not even started to take the sky through gradient from absence to navy blue to cobalt already slapped together cars puttering along or behind motorcycles with women sitting both legs on one side as in effigy or remembrance of more than one past century of echelons leaving puffs of smog… Continue reading Rush Hour in the Persistence of Memory
by Alex Landrum Tyler looked up at the hard, blue sky. A vulture swooped with its black wings stretched into a V. The twelve-year-old boy shuddered. He couldn’t believe what had happened. His stomach knotted with fear just as his foot turned on a piece of loose gravel that caused him to skid forward, bumping… Continue reading Martin’s Last Task
for Philip Levine by Stephen Barile His name is sewn in script On the oval patch over his left breast, Lemon. The shirt-pocket bulges With something kept hidden. Machine oil stains his coveralls. Under a cap, with a metal-buckle, He smiles with very tapered lips That grip his bulging cheeks. Reflecting the sun from a… Continue reading LEMON
by Alex Scaife I Water drained slowly into the copper pipes beneath me, with a churning sound that continued until the spinning mass of liquid had disappeared. I lay naked with damp, tangled strands falling across my face and beads of sweat clinging to my forehead. Red veins meandered through the whites of my eyes… Continue reading Mayakovsky
Ignatian Literary Magazine 