Joseph Natali, C’19 I sit on my porch, pipe in hand, reclining in a decaying camp chair while fragrant smoke curls around my head. It’s too hot for the end of September, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the burning forest the next state over. A year ago, sweat would haveContinue reading “A Brief Reflection on the Nature of Home”
Author Archives: irinaorusanova
Sleeve
Amanda Moyher, C’21 I. K: Let’s go back in time for a minute. What were you doing on December 15, 2003 [redacted]? A: The snow on the ground is abundant and white like crystals. A little girl runs across the yard in a pink, puffy coat with a pink button nose. She laughs at herContinue reading “Sleeve”
Dissolution of Distance
Mary Anand, C’21 An airplane Is a sugar cube . . . It dissolves. It is a speck. It is gone. The birds follow.
Grasshopper
Olivia Grogan, C’23
pottery lessons
Bridget Fertal, C’19 the roses are still there. little white berries and ivy over the door. deep shutters and orange stoop. muddy hill and onion rows. compost bin. little feet that scratch the mud. in the rain, clay runs free. so many little bowls shaped by little hands. for herbs, for onion grass. for rosariesContinue reading “pottery lessons”
Come with Me
Ian Tracey, C’21 Here I stand in a state of trance. A barrage of bass, a salvo of synth, a kickdrum kaleidoscope, my symphony. I am here and nowhere else. The vodka and orange juice I had snuck in swirl and storm below my tired eyes, thrashing against their circular plastic prison. I feel sick,Continue reading “Come with Me”
Newborn Butterflies
Kate Torisky, C’19
Tribute to MC Escher
Tom Gainer, C’81
to them, of pleasure
Irina Rusanova, C’20 i. to Sappho what could be more [ ] beautiful than blossoms rubbing [ ] in the breeze ii. to Rimbaud Rest your mind on this lonesome shoulder, cease to be skeletal, to wonder, wander, attaché of copulation. Ah, begotten one, sever that arm, that finger dripping with satisfaction. Your eyes bearContinue reading “to them, of pleasure”
The Devil in Passive or Byzantium Regained
Michael Doelling, C’20 Where are you my Hellenic beauties? With your silky jet hair and Aegean blue eyes. Lush mystic Mouse lips with warm June Hugs. Desire remembered and enjoyed As I see the Armenians spin portals. Come to Me and I’ll give you more than A toothless smile. Come to me And I’ll giveContinue reading “The Devil in Passive or Byzantium Regained”
Generation 