Fall 2011 Artwork


Body by Emely Sanchez

My soul suffocated

under the fingertips of many.

Men, who gripped my waist as a claim of authority,

and dug their uncut nails into my hipbones.

They claimed my existence as theirs,

making sure I knew it

each time I strayed from their side.

I learned to pretend

I could breathe under the weight of their palms.

Men taught me I was made of plastic,

malleable and weak.


A Piano‚Äôs Gentle Sound

By Keighley Null
A sealed, top glazed wooden piano
All eighty-eight keys silently sitting
Untouched, the bench pushed up far
Underneath by the pedals
Dust has gathered and coated the unopened
Top that was the door to the inner workings
Sheet music strewn all over the floor
A small girl comes and wipes the dust off
And picks up the music, placing it above
The keyboard to where they belong.
Pulled out the bench and sat down
First time in years, the piano made sweet music
Each note playing through the air, filling the house
The keys and pedals finally pressed down
Each song played was a bird gently using the summer
Breeze to glide along, and then land for a bit before
Starting up all over again, the songs were the river running
Calmly in the back yard
Each note, prettier than the chirping bird, or that of the
Flute or any other instrument, the sounds and notes carried
To the outside like a sailboat in the open sea
Music, each note, so gracefully played like a ballerina on stage
Each end nicely played out, after the songs were done being played,
The girl left the piano alone again, but this time, the music was not on
The floor and the body was not dusty because she would be back
appeared in Fall 2011 edition, Vol. VII, Issue 1


A set of photographs by Chris Unger.

Click to read more ...