Three Sisters of Glencoe

Photo by Hana Dekker This photo is of two of three mountains named “The Three Sisters of Glencoe,” taken during my time in Scotland, from August-December 2023. The three mountain peaks (one is not pictured here) are named Beinn Fhada, Gearr Aonach and Aonach Dubh. The photo was taken during a 12-and-a-half-hour day tour, during

Sostén esto por mí (Hold this for me)

Poetry by Nicolás Serrano de la Paz Art by Alex Hoang Sostén esto por mí Antes te ofrecí un dedo.O unos varios.Pero ahora te ofrezco mis ojos.Para que no salgan lágrimasy no pueda ver tu sonrisaescondida o tus ojos escapados. Y te ofrezco mis manos(incluyendo mis dedos)Para que no me puedaaferrar a ti. Para queno

love poem

Poem by Stella Xia Art by J. Sassi x. epilogue / asshole, she scoffsno no mom i’ll still write him a love poemit is not a matter of merit you seebut of memory, or what remains after skinbecomes tissue paperand kneesa bird’scroaking under sterile sheets at least i was recklessearnestloudjust what he loathedjust what i

The importance of music to Black identity and the vitality of ownership in determining music’s significance in David Chariandy’s Brother

Essay by Audrey Kruger Art by Adri Marcano When discussing White supremacy, many only consider the United States and wrongfully exempt Canada from the issue of systematic racial prejudice. In fact, a plethora of scholarship has been published addressing the embodied experiences of Black immigrants in Canada, including Robyn Maynard’s discussion on state-sanctioned violence and

Like All Storms Do

Prose by Annie Wang Art by Adri Marcano It was a warm night.  It’d rained twice today, once in the early morning and again in the last hour. It was still drizzling when they’d left the restaurant, and no one had brought an umbrella. Sol had seen everyone into their cars, propped her arms up

Belladonna

Prose by Amaruuk Bose Art by Adri Marcano It has been eight hours and twenty-seven minutes since I killed Nathan and you still haven’t texted me back. This isn’t unusual—you’ve gone without texting me back before, sometimes for hours at a time when you’re busy, but never this long. And never after I’ve killed someone.

The Fool

Prose by Lorelei McEwen Art by Natalia Mohar Disclaimer: This piece depicts the world through the lens of an autistic protagonist. It is my intention for this piece to foster understanding and acceptance of both autistic struggles and strength. This portrayal is based on my personal experience as an autistic person and may not ring

weaving

Poem by Vidushy Avasthi Art by J. Sassi I weave my memory of people from threads they leave behind. The gas station next to their bus stop, silent car rides after driving tests, rum and cokes and gin and tonics. All the little things, everything we ever laughed and fought about, tucked in a pattern

Bad Gateway

Poem by Spencer Lee Art by J. Sassi I’m malfunctioning at the pool with my kindergarten ex-girlfriend listening to the humdrum whir of the air conditioner.    She has a brother  I’ve seen on Grindr;  she gets me, I’ve assumed.    We’re discussing the merits of Uber fees over  DUI charges and all the  tall

The Trees on my Father’s Hands

Poem by Corrina Wang Art by Amy Ng Warning: The following poems contain topics on death.  Disclaimer: I do not promote or support any self-harm, obsession, drugs, extremely strict parenting, or anything that will cause pain to people. Poems are taken from inspiration through historical texts, images, and random thinking. Please seek professional support if