Fall 2016 The Flag Series: Fingers tracing Places of Aspiration Sukenya Best My work often involves the human figure, body pressure, and audience participation. It is propelled by a love for color and movement. These elements are an autobiographical link to my family's history in the Caribbean Islands, New York City, and Central Virginia. Visual Art Two Poems by Sarah Bates Sarah Bates I remember myself in parts. November morning without snow. Dusty footprints, no brakes. I remember nothing. Poetry Two Poems by Dorinda Wegener Dorinda Wegener If Your Family Owned a Mausoleum, then This Poem Would Make More Sense Your sisters have found corpses: beautiful one in the bath, the Poetry Three Poems by Michelle Lewis Michelle Lewis Animul/Flame Animul owned the sun that beat the back of the gavel-nosed deer. Around us, sweetbread mountains with their anatomical stone stone stone. I Poetry Rat’s Nest Monica Rico My mother said, my hair was like a rat’s nest, a rat’s nest plucked by a black capped chickadee for another nest or the start Poetry Two Poems by Kathryn Merwin Kathryn Merwin Body Composition You wanted me to make you art, capture the way you breathe stars from the sky, disappear into the folds of my Poetry Primitive Allison Thorpe Primitive Now you want to make her faceless fling the greedy spit of acid splatter domination through iris and cornea gouge socket and cartilage Poetry Two Poems by Sarah Escue Sarah Escue ON NIGHTS WHEN I AM MOTHERLESS Through the limbs of an ash tree, ash filters, reminds me of the nights we watched the storm Poetry Amputee Marissa Stephens Amputee The first time I witnessed my son’s boner, I gasped, then pretended not to see it, proceeded to help him into Spiderman underpants Poetry Two Poems by Anne Champion Anne Champion SALLY RIDE WATCHES THE CHALLENGER EXPLODE I know what it is to be boxed in hot light, ushered into more darkness, pinpricked by the Poetry The Healing Nidhi Singh When the half-moon, past a half night bent its light on the red-brown building,the misery, it quickened, the despair, it doubled, grim thoughts like fiends Fiction Traveling Alone Kate Blackwell When Patrice Hughes turned forty, her gift to herself was a week in Paris, alone. It was the Eighties, when the married women she knew Fiction House Guest Annalise Mabe I saunter slowly through the aisles of annuals and poppies, past flowering cacti and tiny Christmas trees following Michaelene in the Lowe’s Garden Center on Nonfiction For Coq au Vin Judy T. Oldfield Chef’s Knife The knife shriek shriek shrieks against the rod. Fluorescent light, bouncing, highlights the grain, smearing brightness on the white subway tiles. We are Fiction Mar y Sol Raluca Ioanid Marisol’s daughter, Jaquelin, turned 19 yesterday. She and her 15-year-old brother have been pacing the pea-green fluorescent-lit hallways of the intensive care unit for days. Fiction Searching for Her M.A. Jay I knew you were drunk last night. Not by the smell as much as the three times you called me beautiful. By the talk of Nonfiction Essays on Production Kristina Marie Darling I. That winter, I took up writing in an attempt to forget the countryside. My first play, carefully parsed out into eight acts, took place Nonfiction The Disappearing Woman Ellie Rogers We scrub March sludge, soak up marsh chorus in our shared porcelain tub under cloud-clad sky. We dive in to the rain-clad quarry with naked acrobats. I notice my body does not match. Poetry Tomoko Uemura in Her Bath Judith H. Montgomery Floating, supported in her mother’s arms, the two bodies crossed in eloquent echo. Look and look Poetry
The Flag Series: Fingers tracing Places of Aspiration Sukenya Best My work often involves the human figure, body pressure, and audience participation. It is propelled by a love for color and movement. These elements are an autobiographical link to my family's history in the Caribbean Islands, New York City, and Central Virginia. Visual Art
Two Poems by Sarah Bates Sarah Bates I remember myself in parts. November morning without snow. Dusty footprints, no brakes. I remember nothing. Poetry
Two Poems by Dorinda Wegener Dorinda Wegener If Your Family Owned a Mausoleum, then This Poem Would Make More Sense Your sisters have found corpses: beautiful one in the bath, the Poetry
Three Poems by Michelle Lewis Michelle Lewis Animul/Flame Animul owned the sun that beat the back of the gavel-nosed deer. Around us, sweetbread mountains with their anatomical stone stone stone. I Poetry
Rat’s Nest Monica Rico My mother said, my hair was like a rat’s nest, a rat’s nest plucked by a black capped chickadee for another nest or the start Poetry
Two Poems by Kathryn Merwin Kathryn Merwin Body Composition You wanted me to make you art, capture the way you breathe stars from the sky, disappear into the folds of my Poetry
Primitive Allison Thorpe Primitive Now you want to make her faceless fling the greedy spit of acid splatter domination through iris and cornea gouge socket and cartilage Poetry
Two Poems by Sarah Escue Sarah Escue ON NIGHTS WHEN I AM MOTHERLESS Through the limbs of an ash tree, ash filters, reminds me of the nights we watched the storm Poetry
Amputee Marissa Stephens Amputee The first time I witnessed my son’s boner, I gasped, then pretended not to see it, proceeded to help him into Spiderman underpants Poetry
Two Poems by Anne Champion Anne Champion SALLY RIDE WATCHES THE CHALLENGER EXPLODE I know what it is to be boxed in hot light, ushered into more darkness, pinpricked by the Poetry
The Healing Nidhi Singh When the half-moon, past a half night bent its light on the red-brown building,the misery, it quickened, the despair, it doubled, grim thoughts like fiends Fiction
Traveling Alone Kate Blackwell When Patrice Hughes turned forty, her gift to herself was a week in Paris, alone. It was the Eighties, when the married women she knew Fiction
House Guest Annalise Mabe I saunter slowly through the aisles of annuals and poppies, past flowering cacti and tiny Christmas trees following Michaelene in the Lowe’s Garden Center on Nonfiction
For Coq au Vin Judy T. Oldfield Chef’s Knife The knife shriek shriek shrieks against the rod. Fluorescent light, bouncing, highlights the grain, smearing brightness on the white subway tiles. We are Fiction
Mar y Sol Raluca Ioanid Marisol’s daughter, Jaquelin, turned 19 yesterday. She and her 15-year-old brother have been pacing the pea-green fluorescent-lit hallways of the intensive care unit for days. Fiction
Searching for Her M.A. Jay I knew you were drunk last night. Not by the smell as much as the three times you called me beautiful. By the talk of Nonfiction
Essays on Production Kristina Marie Darling I. That winter, I took up writing in an attempt to forget the countryside. My first play, carefully parsed out into eight acts, took place Nonfiction
The Disappearing Woman Ellie Rogers We scrub March sludge, soak up marsh chorus in our shared porcelain tub under cloud-clad sky. We dive in to the rain-clad quarry with naked acrobats. I notice my body does not match. Poetry
Tomoko Uemura in Her Bath Judith H. Montgomery Floating, supported in her mother’s arms, the two bodies crossed in eloquent echo. Look and look Poetry
