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The Quiet
by Karen Shepard I take it personally, braid it into my hair, tie it around my index finger so that I don’t forget, put it in my shoe to pain my every step, sprinkle a dash of in my morning coffee so that I keep tasting it. I hear it’s not about me so I…
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Object Permanence
by Amanda Pendley Artist: Augusto Avila Jr. it was poetic justice maybewhen two days earlier, the three of us stoodsquished and stepping on feetin front of the dull dorm bathroom mirrorfor a friend’s photography projectwe were told to act natural as wepretended to examine our skin for blackheadsand check our teeth for spinachand reach behind…
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Wonder
by Eric Sawyers I used to wonder I then let go and started to wander I now live in wonder I used to wonder how I then stepped out and wandered far I now see wonder with my heart I used to wonder when I then opened my eyes and wandered about I now can…
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Poem by Simon Perchik
To remind you how long before whitebecomes invisible –you fold this dish clothover and over as if each splash is wiped with a cry making roomthe way an old love song turns the worldstill from inside, lowers it into this sink though you reach down for the armthat was everything –it’s a ritualwhere after every…
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cul-de-sac
by RC deWinter as i sit in the bitter wind of a place I never thought could existi contemplate the nature of mortality.can the mind survive without feeling?is there really a soul, or is that just another comforting fairy tale?i contemplate the nature of mortalityshivering in a fever of doubt.is there really a soul or…
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Anger, Shame and Blame
by John Garmon I grew up in anger, shame, and blame. I found later others knew the same. Moving around this country, I was aware Of living in a nation of much despair. I know you won’t find it everywhere, However, it is there. All of it is there. Some ignore it almost successfully. Then…
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I Write To Tell You
by Salam Wosu I write to tell you that my bones are made of contention And my skin black with discord I write to tell you that I come from the dust And I am situated between desires that threaten to break or mould me I write to tell you how I yearn to learn…
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Objects in the Overhead Bin May Shift During Travel
Alexandra Morean is currently getting her BA in writing, editing, and publishing as well as music production. She was born in Venezuela and grew up in Miami, Florida, soaking in all kinds of culture and inspiration.
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The Smell of Hospitals
The Smell of Hospitals by D.S. Maolalai
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Business Trips
by Lauren Bender I pack my identity guides, flip and re-flip the pages in my quest to makea catalognot just of what I am and not just of what I think I amor what I would like to think I ambut what I could be. Most important of all those possibilities, and the waymy astrological…