Poetry

Le Marseillais by Luisa Ferreira

He tastes like hand-rolled cigarettes
and smells like cheap perfume
He sounds like broken promises
on rainy afternoons

I know my place in the world by elliot richter

I was. 
I am.
I will be here.
I sit, growing, watching the people pass.

Suspended from a gilded frame by sara kumar

If the chandelier were to fall and stain the grass with the blood of the pedestrian I could not would not bring myself to care 

Asymmetric plasma trails; the requiem of siren sounds; the ghastly, damned impertinence of a gaze 

The Screams by Lara Popovic

A birthday full of smiles, your lips meet the cake — mmm, buttercream
That night — did you hear the calves scream?

November By Alyssa Shonk

Rose petals wilted
porcelain into mud, spots
speckled its blades, whipped
by collateral wind–

A special Place in Heaven by Andy Martinez

Your eyes flicker open to a fractured light,
Cradled by comfort that won’t hold forever
Thought then begins its quiet descent,
And tomorrow seems like a senseless endeavor.

Prose

Blue Pond by Om Handa

The outside world feels too loud. Rachel reaches for her book. She opens it not to continue the story but to return to the same paragraph that she’s been rereading for days. She reads the same passage over and over because the repetition soothes her. Sometimes she fixates on a single word, staring at it until her eyes burn and the word’s meaning dissolves entirely.

Rabbit on the moon by andy martinez

I sank into the bench overlooking the beach, sweat pouring down my face like rain. It was late August, I think, but it could’ve been a long while before. I remember it being hot as a motherfuck. You ever get those summer nights when the air is devoid of any moisture, and it’s so humid you feel like you're getting boiled in a slow cooker…it was exactly like that, except we were high, so it was worse. My boy’s shirt was drenched, caked in muddy sand after fumbling his clumsy ass off the boardwalk. Tonight was his first time on acid, and it looked like his brain was frying like an egg. I felt exactly the same, maybe a bit worse. 

I am an orange by tina hayeb habib

This girl is sitting alone.

This girl is crying, she is sighing,

All because of me — my orange divine.

Catch someone and let the rest run.

Functional Assessment of Self-Mutilation (FASM) by Anonymous

A. In the past year, have you engaged in the following behaviors to deliberately harm yourself (check all that apply):

Bird’s Eye View by Shelomi Domingo

But the next night, she’s back. 

She’s closer now. Pressed against the glass. Palms flat. Like she’s holding something back.

Gentle are the ones by steven renkas

There it sits above, the watchful eye at sky’s zenith, a grotesque chimera acting as judge, jury, and executioner. Gentle is the one who bears its gaze, neck bent towards judgment and verdict, silence infected by the sharpening of the axe.

Darkshine by Andy Martinez

Further and further he went, the weight of his suit becoming burdensome. He didn’t know how long his journey would last, as the Sun would be rising soon. Yet he continued, through the stark corners, through the depths of an endless pathway. 

Film

Memento Mori by Arya Datta

Memento Mori uses the backdrop of 1980s America to tell the story of author Otto Dean in his pursuit of an answer to the propaganda-dominated world that the story is set in. Dean is an interesting & opinionated  man, yet his dreams of fears of an impending, untimely death, prevent him from sharing his voice to the public. But having recently been featured in the local newspaper for his critical opinions on the current state of art,  Dean finally sets out to write a novel opposing the controlling presence of said artwork & propaganda. Upon visiting a local art hot spot and speaking with a woman named Lorelei, he learns about the local scene, familiarizing himself with names, and bettering his understanding of art’s place in the minds of others. Amidst this visit, he also learns of recent murders in the area, leading him to encounter an uncanny resemblance between his own recurring dreams and a local artist's work, pushing him down a further rabbit hole as he tries to catch hold of the elusive artist Inez Sabalenka.

Art