Narratives of Imbalance Visual Art by Aleezay Hashmi
That river’ll suck you up and spit you out Poem by Steph Airth At Thanksgiving and Christmas, my dad’s company truck trundles up under a patina of Mary Hill grit to take me back to where I’m from. Where I’m from is oh, just an hour or so east. You probably haven’t heard of it.
Ladybug Girls Poem by Charmaine Li In third grade, when the bell rings at 12:10, we dash out–– in our green tunic dresses of Scottish plaid, worn blue sweaters, and untucked shirts. It’s the first warm sigh of spring and the big, big tree that stands behind the playground has arms and fingers that
Dreams of Perelman Poem by Quincy Arthur Planes of white, horizonless, like the muted orange of sunlight with eyes closed. The bedraggled Russian Grisha perched on the pointilist surface of a straight line extending forever that way towards the East if where I’m facing is North. Squinting doesn’t help. I’m drawn back to the tangible
Home (?) Photography by Xiao You Mok (click to enlarge images)
Thinking of You on the way from German to 19th Century Lit. Poem by Katie Selbee We oldes Soules are, my dear; old as coverless volumes and bronze lamps with chain pulls, button-tufted arm-chairs with embroidered floral patterns and monstrous glass cabinets housing curious objects but o, o when we kiss you grip meine Haare
What Breaks Your Heart by William Munro We shouldn’t give creatures names. It’s the name that breaks your heart. — Rose Tremain, Sacred Country, 308. My name is William; I’m sick; I’m dangerous. I was twelve years old when I was first determined to be “mentally ill”. An authority figure gave my vague
A Memory in the Storm fiction by Shail Bhath When the storm begins—the worst one the island has seen in all my years—I am looking for my cat, Persephone. She is a fat orange tabby with three uneven stripes on her back, and she is going blind. “Persephone!” I call out, from behind the
Equipo Cuba fiction by Hannah Siden Habana, 1969 I pretend that I am flying as I run. I hold my arms out like airplane wings, and people dodge me as I sprint down La Rampa towards the Malecón. In school they would tell me this is unbecoming behavior for a fourteen year-old young man of
About Our Contributors Steph Airth is a fourth-year English Honours student. She grew up in rainy and mountainous Maple Ridge, BC. Kai Ying Chieh is a fourth-year student graduating with her Honours in English and a Minor in Linguistics. She likes critical theory, linguistic trivia, novelty print fabric, and red bean milk tea with pearls.
Movement & Form Photography by Calder Tsuyuki Tomlinson (click to enlarge images)
“Symmetry Lores” visual art by Jason Fernando (click to enlarge images)
The Pharmakon and Narratives of Cultural Identity: Reading Derrida in Lowe academic essay by Kai Ying Chieh Lisa Lowe’s account of the relationship between the system of transnational capitalism and the intersecting subjective narratives of Asian immigrant and Asian American women labouring within this system works in a critical tradition that values plurality and ambiguity.
Listening To it Fall fiction by Mormei Zanke When I was younger my Dad would take me on long road trips on a whim. He would wake me up before the rest of our family was awake by opening my door and letting the hallway light stream onto my pumpkin patterned bedspread. He’d leave
Cicada fiction by Rachel Kim It’s surprising how bright the sun is, even though the sky is barely visible through the tall buildings crowding the city. I’m squinting. The air is humid and hot and everything—from the soda bottles to the people—is sweating.Sung-Min and I are sitting under the shade of a skinny tree, sharing