writing, art & comics

Poetry

The Pen by Maggie Silverson

I can see her,everlasting ripples along glass.The river is carrying her through the earlymorning light —a linen sheet soaked with sweat.Chemtrails overhead, silky seaweed below.Sadistic figures crossing the creaking bridge,cursingan embodiment of monogamy — of loyalty.A supercut of innocence within one frame.Did you see in between the valley of her

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Fiction

Feral by Richard Stimac

Feral Rickie was sent to find the family dog. His father had been working on the car. During one trip to the basement for tools, he left the door open and the terrier-mix Snappy was out and down the street to the drainage ditch that ran along the railroad tracks

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Poetry

The Choice to be Visible by Morrigan Bonegardener

I choose to be seen for whoAnd whatI am To let it be knownThat I would rather shiver in the coldThan let one person stand aloneIf I enter these spaces by the grace of my face I betray my sisters, My saviors Who are shut out from this placeAnd I

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Poetry

Waiting for the Winds to Change by Morrigan Bonegardener

Waiting for the wind to changeHer mind to rearrange a strangerWhose face is fear, flashes of death and dangerPresiding inside hallowed halls of bathroom stallsAn image, shattered glass shards, a life apart from all that was With ease and simple pleasuresTo wander freely in the night, to speakWithout the need

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Poetry

Khöömei by Yuan Changming

A deep double-Throat, singingFrom beyondHeaven (or hell)Echoing in natureAs it finds itself Heard inA human voiceLike a whale’s call PerceivableBy its likeEven afar acrossThe whole Pacific

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Poetry

519 by Enny Oar

-519- Iheardthe flittering ofbumblebee wingsamidst the dandelions,beckoning the mothers,whose babies heads poppedoff,to weep milky whitetears for the wind their childrenwill never know.Shorn free of their emeraldfabric lashesandleft to bake on pavementfor the blue jays, sparrows,and garden hose.Lifted bythe cool smell of wet gravelon this,the day the rusted spokescarried me through

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Poetry

Jigsaw by Jennifer Phillips

Jigsaw is the tool you use to make one.Such a human hobby, cutting up the picturejust so that, on a bored, dark winter evening,we sit down to make the pieces fit again!But when it’s finished there are always cracks.You have to back away and keep your distanceto cherish the illusion

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about

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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