Adam and Eve were stick figures Drawn by god in their infancy Amid Green Triangle trees And a yellow circle sun A blue River Ribbon Flowed out of Eden A sable Serpent was easy to draw (the red forked tongue came later) The plot thickened, an apple, ruby red And
Cookie-cutter roofs defy the critics With block conformity And mass appeal. The HOA rules Middle Earth With threats and fines. Cracked foundations flood Carpets and faux wood floors With sewer water. Middle Earth huddles Under red tiles During wind, rain, and hail. Odors of cooking and nature callings Stink rooms
Angel looked at the bric-a-brac that hung on the restaurant walls. Rickie examined thelabel on his beer bottle. Mary folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. Todd shrugged.“A woman cannot be a feminist and work in a corporation,” Todd said.“It’s that simple,” Mary said.“It’s that simple.”Angel shook Rickie’s
It was Dec. 8 last year when I decided to visit one of my favorite recovery clubs to commemorate 28 years of sobriety. It had been a long time since I’d been to a meeting and even longer since I’d worked the steps with a sponsor. The last one I
Howard knew exactly how it would go down. It was always the same. Evelyn would come waltzing in through his front door with a flourish of her hand like a movie star arriving at the Academy Awards. He would wince as she approached, wondering which Evelyn she would be this
To be beautiful. Delicate. Decorative. Never anything less. Appearance is value and value is existence. Silence and smiles never quite reach the eyes that shine so polished it exposes the eyes of the beholder who holds something so precious so fragile it must be hidden from reckless grasps. To sit
CONTENT WARNING: This fictional story contains scenes of physical and sexual violence. I was only twenty-two on that terrible day. Nobody cared why I did it. Instead, they were curious about who did it. And it’s hard for me to understand why I didn’t get a chance to explain. It
She was a quiet child, always lost in the silent fields of fantasy while she gathered acorns with a perpetual furrow of thoughtfulness between her brown eyes. In a low lilting tune that was sad and happy all at once, her mother would sing to her of a peasant girl
I watched your body slowly putrefy as mutated B-cells Dispersed their alien poison into your pristine ecosystem Steeped in stress, a life out of your control. You ignored the initial warnings Denied the changing climate within The fire on your skin The flood across your landscape. The inescapable truth made
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.
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