Josh Joseph
- Sep 29, 2018
An Absent Mind Eats Itself
From the balcony of Boston’s Symphony Hall, lights attempt to direct me towards the
pounding Bernstein melody unfurling onstage. Instead, I’m imagining what would
happen if I swung from the light fixture, or broke each of the tiny yellow bulbs on the
chandelier, one by one. The timpani guy is bouncing around like a toddler. I’ve never seen a tuba mute before. An old man nearby inhales mucous with each breath. I’m hyper-aware, but at the same
time I’m gone. I’m not at the
Maelyn Latko
- Sep 15, 2018
Jeep Gang
Words circling my mind, "It's finally nice out. Clean your car." But maybe six-year-old me didn't want to. My car, modeled after a 2003 Grand Cherokee, was dented in the front left panel; the flower bed never did recover. It was an old car, scarred with bumps and bruises, miles and mud, not only damaged, but I was told it was "the mom-mobile" of Jeeps. Apparently, there's a universal code among these illusive drivers: there was no room for my small, less intense car next to t
Nicole Brigante
- Sep 13, 2018
Untitled
"What's today's date?" asks the underclassman girl sitting next to me in Physics class, as she tries to look at the formulas on my reference table. Didn't we all get one in the beginning of the year? As I take my phone out and click the home button, I realize there's exactly sixty-one days left until June 23rd. Soon enough, the girl in my Physics class will no longer ask me the date every time we have a test. Soon enough, I won't hear her whisper the answer to me when I get c
Salmaan Ejaz
- Sep 12, 2018
The Bear
I can feel you
Feel you standing in my meadow
A meadow of sorrow
Where dreams and lost toys go to rest
Where the light shouldn't shine
Where you shouldn't be
I slept once
And felt your presence
Saw where you shouldn't be
Saw you threatened by the mechanisms of your own failure
Saw your frightened expression, as if your entire world came crashing down and the only one who truly understood it was me
But I didn't do anything then
Couldn't, as I was held behind my own
Amina Sadiq
- Sep 11, 2018
Concert
Frantically rubbing my hands while waiting in the cold for 16 hours, I try to regain feeling in my fingers, toes, and nose. I feel my heart pump like the booming bass from soundcheck. Running to the barricade with hundred of feet thumping behind me. The stage lights turn on, the crowd roars, and pushes forward, The lights flare as dozens of people begin to surf above my head, and I feel the temperature of the room rise as the fans scream to the sound of music. Now overheated
Salmaan Ejaz
- Sep 11, 2018
Water
I fell
Over and over
Past mountains of green scales
Rivers of brown fur
Valleys of grey feathers
I fall
Over and over
Under oceans of yellow acid
Past caves of pink forests
Into whirlpools of white demise
I'm falling
I've always been
Over and over
Caught in my own tide
In the cold wretched hands of gravity
Flowing wherever I can
Fated to flow
Destined to fall
Over and over
Until it happens again, and again, and again
I've seen mountains crumble and empires
David Caliendo
- Sep 5, 2018
Breathe In, Breathe Out
God, it's been so long since that faint feeling of motivation to push through my laziness. These emotions would come, then go. Now my motivation is encased in shadows. No more gym, no more diet, no more meditation. There must be some kind of light to come. But for now, I am clouded by your songs of deception and depression.
Lilly Pelliccia
- Sep 5, 2018
Cannonball
She's midair, knees tucked in eyes shut. Her sandy hair, sunburnt skin is evident with a running head start. Two feet above the board, three feet above the water. Everyone braces for the impact. The water ripples as she submerges Leaving everyone soaked.
Josh Joseph
- Sep 5, 2018
Untitled
Whitman owed me something For making me listen to his poetry In his high school for four years So I've plucked out his verse structure His meterless meter Scratched at his greatness Undid each lace Now, we’re even.