I know Emily is in
the fountain
in the courtyard, tensed
with joy, kicking
at the goldenrod
that replaced my longing
Along the highway:
scutch bangs hang, a lone buzzy
cane cholla fans out,
an escarpment looms in its distance,
and a sudden flush of violet
blooms at the median’s edge.
My heart jackhammered as I approached the security checkpoint. I froze when I saw four police officers and a technician at a desk with my laptop. My embarrassment of seeing the sticker of a pink taco Kyle slapped on my laptop earlier in the semester made me consider if I should head back to my gate.
I want a playhouse
a live-in scrapbook of only the best times:
travels, conversations and laughter
over a delicious and bountiful dinner
“This isn’t the life I pictured,” Kush said. His dream had been to have a younger man live with him, a ward, someone he could adopt who would inherit his growing fortune. “Instead, I have a man who shows up when he shows up, if you know what I mean.” James knew what he meant, but it was all that he could give.
and when I touch his fingers I try to feel yours, and
he is a grain and you… and you
are the sand in Seine adjacent sidewalk cracks.
The cars are angled to mimic the Great Pyramid of Khufu’s faces, which is one of my favorite things I didn’t know at the time. That seems like the type of fact to put on a plaque to help illuminate the general public and alleviate their apathy. Attempting to establish a correlation between these cars and the Great Pyramid is nothing short of incredible. What’s more American than that?
FILM / The Craft, Feminism, and Building a Better World / Joanna Acevedo
The 1996 cult classic The Craft sets out to be a feminist movie, but like many movies of the late 90s, it loses steam about an hour into the movie, when its main characters, a group of teenage girls, turn on each other and it becomes a movie about what happens when teenagers, shoved together in the hothouse of high school, get too close to one another.
It’s not ideal to tell family and friends
your favorite Christmas present.
However, you can write it in poetry
because everything put in poetry
disappears.
I slip into the crowd. It’s easy to trip and catch myself on someone’s shoulder, fingers gliding in and out of pockets. I pivot and twist to get a good view. Shaved Head leans forward too close and you catch him off balance within seconds. Exhale on the punch.
The last time I saw you, you were in bad shape. I promised to take you for a tune-up the next day, but I procrastinated. Long hours, work, the incessant Bay area traffic. The entire weekend was spent in bed, catching up on my forty winks. And then when I remembered, it was too late.
What lies next to me is bigger than you
and stronger than you. And even
- shall I say - a little more crumpled than you. But
I’m not.
FILM / The Resurgence of Stop-Motion Animation / Brendan Brewster
In an age of hollow CGI studio fare, endless superhero battles, and an increasing loss of artisanal talent in film, stop-motion animation provides a unique place for filmmakers and craftspeople to explore their craft and tell stories that feel earnest and unique.
Evening falls through the trees, stretching shadows over the grass. Lora watches until the light is gone. She goes out her back door into the alley that connects everyone’s backyards, past trash bins, a laundry line, and a discarded sink. As she approaches Mrs. Delbiaggio’s back door, it occurs to her that she might find it locked.
FILM / Captain Canada's Movie Rodeo / February 2023 / Gabriel Ricard
Gabe discusses film resolutions in this month’s Captain Canada’s Movie Rodeo.
Dust off court documents dated three decades ago, one sees the journey of lost time, lost life, and bloodshed. Like the pages of a yearbook, the photographic lens of these documents capture the violence hidden in the mouths of the few who travelled their telling tales down time.
You didn’t know the terminology
until your first visit with the oncologist
where you sat on your hands and listened close
as if listening would change the outcome.
It wouldn't.
My voice is here; it’s a crescendoing tune I’m harnessing
into a symphony. What it says is all up to who hears it.