It’s clear we can’t agree On the past, the present and how we came to be Our pain of not being recognized Hurts our decency So we treat one another With complacency space My parents come from war torn countries They didn’t want to leave their homelands, culture, family or
Along the cool sidewalk it crawls across frigid pavement wandering around in this late fall an October caterpillar with no expectations born too late an early expiration space Yet it goes on as if at the dawn of life not worrying of the dire future it simply lives on eats,
the simple way we fit together interlocking with the shy mocking femme fatale – You’re butter on a poppyseed bagel or coasters on the coffee table my very own sea raven. you’re gin and tonic on a parching summer’s day a perfectly aged cabernet a prepossessing paramour. heavens sent celestial
Trigger warnings: mentions of blood and physical violence. space The monolith in the sky spun tauntingly, shedding bright white light across the misty horizon, the windswept bay, and the briny sea. It was just us two; the sailor and myself. For ten dollars a day, the isolation was worth it, and
So often do I want for home, for family. Where others seem so happily sheltered by their place and blood, I have long felt transient in both. Houses and kin have been left behind, their memory a mine once rich caved in with time, or burned quite literally to ash.
This girl is not ready to tell her whole story so she offers it in short words and sentences cryptic phrases and pithy replies she loves stories so much they save her for awhile space She lives in her storybooks because they are safer than ordinary life never makes plans
This publication is the result of collaboration between students and faculty of the School of University Arts & Sciences and the School of the Arts at Selkirk College. Submissions are published online throughout the year and selected works are compiled into a print magazine once per year.
We trust you will enjoy!