Volume 40 ~ 2017


Evy Holmes



The warm dew of sweat builds

under the aide-de-camp’s uniform.

His back aches from riding

on horseback for several hard miles.


Trees bow over the road,

protecting him from the cruel sunlight.

The young soldier’s harsh breath

hurts his swollen throat, thick with sickness.


He can see the tents of

camp, but the horse does not.

He kicks at his steed’s side,

but it will not yield to his command.


Maddie Cervera



There’s an old tube slide abandoned  

in the field by my house. At night,        

the neighborhood kids sneak off to  

the realm, writing their names on dark

green walls. My sister and I so  

badly want our names on the

sacred piece of plastic.


We wait for years to grow old enough;     

For our names to hang out with “Benny,”  

and “Ryan,” written in black letters.          


Now, we creep to the field with sharpies

and write our names. The moonlight is  

our spotlight and it seems all our dreams

have come true.


Zoey Klein


Where people tear away at each other

like rabid dogs, stomachs aching          

from hunger, ravaging through the         

forgotten mounds of trash.                     


Where the leaders of society are

no longer seen as role models,    

but we are compelled  to listen     

because they are our voice.         


Where veterans are left out on the streets;

starving, suffering, and those who

don’t work for their freedom, flaunt it

like there was no price paid.


Jade Gonzalez



Melted ice cream cones and fried egg sidewalks

bubble in bustling cities. Skylines

bully trees into shriveling shadows.

Green lines pockets more than playgrounds. Metal

stampedes roam across nature’s former turf.


Grocery bag jellyfish and plastic

plankton invade the high seas, ringing out

the rag of the ocean into hungry

mouths. Coral reefs fade into skeletons

and soda rings strangle swimming harp seals.


Children need masks to breathe chemical air

and can’t see stars through the fog of progress.

The world withers because of us. Nature

cries, but remains faithfully at our sides.


Liv O’Clair


You only listen to me when

I’ve got tears in my eyes and sighs

in my heart and slashes on thighs.

I don’t want to be dramatic,

but I’ll throw full blown hysteria

to have your attention. I’ll bleed

my wrists raw if you will notice

the hurt in my heart and the shame

in my soul. I will swallow pills

if you can perceive my ‘not-so

perfect’ life. I shouldn’t need to.


Abby Waldo


Something wafts through the halls

like thick sacred smoke,

it dives into your lungs

while you gasp for air.


Aching for oxygen,

you forget what it

feels like to breathe something

besides toxic truth.


The poison will follow you

when you leave. You open doors

watching as tree trunks crack and

splinter under forceful flames


With every scorched step,

a part of you is left.

Ashes dust the pavement

blowing away with embers.


Sara Lundeen


Phantoms haunt fields once filled with life.

They remind me of death coming

for me and you. I wandered down

crossroads; looked in all directions.

No great skyscrapers or trees blocked

my view of the horizon. All

we’ve made will diminish into

rubble. The things we love will die.

What remains are empty spirits

that plague all crossroads and the dread

left with the dead.


Abby Cleveland


Everyone likes the girl

who is blond and skinny.

The girl with a lot of

friends who everyone thinks is nice.

She is nice to an extent.

Popularity can rule

over even the nicest people.


But what about the lone girl,

that is in the shadows.

She doesn’t wear short skirts

to try to make others like her.

She lives in her own world, away

from all of the stereotypical teens

She is not who they think she is.


Tessa Wagener



Behind a dead oak, I hide.

I rest my face in my hands,  

scared to talk to the pretty  

girls, afraid of their laughter.   

Behind a dead oak, I’m safe.

I hold onto the branches

and watch the pretty girls sneer

at the girl with pink pigtails,

the girl with pigtails, like mine.


Hope Anderson


Through the sea the boat sails and then it comes to shore.

On the shore, the train travels making the grass tremble.

In a halt the train dies and the plane takes over.

When the plane crashes and the car emerges.

Slowly the car drives down asphalt.

It awaits the day for something to wreck it.


Jenessa Landin


Over the cliff which drops into darkness,     

a lone blue flower rests on a vast ledge.        


The flower sways in the soft breeze.     

I stare down into the dark trench.            


Oh, beauty is everywhere. Smiling,

I thank the flower and walk away.


Avery Michalski


Humans hide in a dim cave,

it protects them from the truth.


Eroded rock shields the world:

walls keep out unwanted things.


In time, stones crumble and crash.

Air slaps the faces of man.


Everyone scrambles for help,

crying, Stop! Please, make it stop!


Truth floods their innocent minds,

and nobody can save them.  


After Adrienne Rich's

"What Kinds of Times Are These"