1. This
2. Shoulder soirée, all mine
3. And as I'm growing
4. The flat is in the west village - on an unassuming street devoid of too much pomp
5. Ornery Clownery (East Bound Clowns)
6. empty mirror
7. Impostor Syndrome
8. I filled out the paperwork all wrong and now I'm going to redo it
9. Notes from my urologist
10. Rebellious Hues for Rebellious Kids

11. An Anatomical Dissection
12. Anonymous
13. Medium
14. I live in America
15. Operator
16. Night's Forecast
17. Tomorrow I Might Be Lloyd Dobler
18. forever home
19. places i want to be
20. To My Grandfather, Whom I Barely Knew
21. Ode to big tex

Poetry

This by Woody Wisz

Under an early moon back home the

owls weep together to remind me that

there is still time.

Shoulder Soirée, all mine by Maia Nunez

I repeat it over and over,

My new nighttime mantra: I’m lonelier than ever,

But at least my skin is soft!

and as I’m growing by Jessica Lovett

a shadow of all of us made on the

floor

Ornery Clownery (East Bound Clowns) by Bea Mendoza

For you and you only, I find myself a fool.

In desperation I have choked on breadcrumbs

begging for satisfaction

Empty Mirror by Marissa Pecorelli

in the mirror there’s no reflection

I could’ve sworn I was there yesterday

now I am blank— I am Not

Imposter syndrome by julianne holmquist

I watched a Ted Talk on

P O W E R P O S I N G

I filled out the paperwork all wrong and now I’m going to redo it by lu aubin

How many girls are there in a man’s world? Not many but

there are

flowers and plants and little crumbs and dresses

notes from my urologist by lu aubin

Good amount, could do more.

An Anatomical Dissection by Leah Toledano

You yearn for the origin of your dreams and

the source of your sleep. You imagine the core

to look like a very strange place. It is.

anonymous by Shannon Rao

I could tell you the story of a girl who whispered

as the leaves fell so as not to wake the trees

Medium by Margaret McNamara

I think the typewriter will fix my problems.

I think the typewriter will translate my thoughts on the page for me and I think the typewriter will catapult me into being who I want and making what I want and if I can just get the typewriter fixed but I don’t get the typewriter fixed and that’s what’s keeping me from everything that I want.

I live in america by Alyssa Jordan

I do not like America. I do not like the way

American men stare at me.

I pit myself against America.

Night’s Forecast by Valen Jones

The mortal numbers

do not for slope, they spiral.

Tomorrow I might be lloyd Dobler by Bea Mendoza

Last night I thought of weathering winter with new eyes

and broader shoulders

Forever home by michelle agaron

“you remember everything.”

what you mean is i fill every room with your habits,

Places I want to be by Eva Gelman

i.

alone in the night with the music blaring

shoulders bare / eyes shut / swimming

in the night

alone

Ode to big tex by Isabel Daniel

One ticket on the DART to the fairgrounds, please.

Right up to the gates more glorious than heaven’s

for a single perfect day.

Prose

the flat is in the west village - on an unassuming street devoid of too much pomp by victoria castillo

There’s virtually no light and all the plants die. But, the light that does manage to creep in is a ferocious golden hue. The grown-ups around me shine all different kinds of light.

Rebellious Hues for Rebellious kids by madeline katz

Directions:

1. Put on gloves in order to avoid staining your hands.

Operator by Lia Merkelson

Job woke up one morning to find his wife and children all dead. Again.

to my grandfather, whom i barely knew by isabella malfi

With the garden string, you’d restake the peppers, eggplant, and beans to their slender stakes. And at the very end, your hands and knees would crawl across the garden snatching the unyielding dandelion sprouts and the few blades of unwelcome grass.