by Tamar Weir looking at the world through your stained windows its a sunday morning so you’ve opened up the blinds all is there for you to see but you’re only 20, life is happening to you but it has…
Berlin
by Tamar Weir Arriving landing my feet are on the ground officially german soil officially in the land of my ancestors pulsing Godly reactive vagina arriving, unaffecting vagina is now infected german soil welcoming me with each new coffee shop…
Embarcadero Man
Written and photographed by Neva Ryan On buses, she sat on the seat Second from the back Behind the stairs On bart, she sat anywhere As long as no one looked at her On amtrak, she needed to sit In…
when i close my eyes i hear the flute
Written by Olivia Magee when i close my eyes i hear the flutebeing played by the man in the rose garden at the mission yesterdaybut instead of a songhe plays one unwavering note in my right ear and the fan…
Laughing Cow
Written by Jenna Westling Born an ungulate with udders A deadly combination Because of this fate You’re less than a carcass As a bairn You’re reared in a cramped barn stable And as a dairy cow You live in a…
give me a new name
Written by Olivia Magee Illustrated by Liam Cox give me a new namea cataclysm of trust fallsscheduled for thursdaya new gait learned and a new spacediscoveredthe specs were not quite what i imaginedbut when i held your handi felt your…
To-Do List, Manifesto
Written by Jenna Westling Illustrated by Cameron Edwards 1) Give sex robots a chip that activates their autonomy. Join them in the fight for fourth wave feminism. Appoint one as president. 2) Let little kids, aged 5-10, stage a coup…
“Centuries of Sinai”
With unleavened bread They rushed towards the Red Sun baking above Desert welcomed love For trust led them through What only the lord knew A long journey called ‘Exodus of the Jews’ Plagued with confusion Questions, illusion Time in between…
White Noise
By Amrit Sidhu Run into the field of bounty, of all that is aesthetically pleasing. Bask in the glory of its scent. Let its poison overflow your lungs and kill every living cell within your essence. Run into that…
I Can’t
By Karin Gold I can’t write poetry. I never could. Words don’t come out the way I think they should. My words fly out my mouth choppy, awkward, and broken Like a poor one-winged dove. An attempt at grace That fails…