Byline: Anonymous

Shaking My Hips Dolefully

Beirut played at Terrace this Sunday. You might have heard him. You might even have been there, drinking, doing your thing. The place was crowded.

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Telescoping Sleep

In the succeeding entries, we telescope our sleepy selves.

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A Fragile Peace

Commentary on Anna Kimmel’s “you’ve heard it before | you’ll hear it again” and suicide across college campuses

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Tell Me Why

Gregg Gillis sits in the library of Terrace Club; a few minutes ago he was eating potatoes. He is of average height and has enormous white teeth. He speaks rapidly and giddily, as though school has just been cancelled.

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Falling Out and Into Faith

It stung to realize that I was less than what my family thought, and I began to feel an unbridgeable distance between us. I blamed myself, but I also blamed the God who my family had always promised would help me. I tried my best. Why am I failing?

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When I was 16, I was Hot

The first months of freshman year went by so quickly. I hooked up with the guy who became my boyfriend within days of arriving on campus, and my friends and I managed to garner the attention of what seemed like … Read More

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Odi et amo

Constellations of pale paned light

lapse across shadowed walls

as the din of street stragglers

dissipates in the slums,

appetites for fucking or for food

finally mollified.

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Single and Desperate

Daring, bold 5’9″ Jewish M with extreme good looks has decided not to be daring and bold by placing an ad for a similarly attractive F, height < 5'8". Think Annie Hall for a better looking, more bold and daring Alvy Singer. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it might not work.

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A Yacht Club Party is Winding Down

The last few bars of a big-band tune exposing themselves without a hint of self-awareness and the half-sober apercus of a gaggle of twenty or so be-sequined, be-suited women and men of a certain age their laughter playing soft on … Read More

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Sprinkles

The construction guys are wearing neon hoodies and eating grilled cheese sandwiches, Sprinkled across the lawn like lobster buoys — “Confetti thrown from heaven,” you’d call them When I was on the boat and couldn’t sleep. If I went back … Read More

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Three Poems

Ad Pulcherissimam Fireassam Mariannam These humid days Tend to craze More than desert sun. But if her heat Will join this heat Then come come Delirium! The Beautiful Bain of My Existence (Jonesin’) We’re all struck soon or late, you … Read More

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Lessons in Stupidity

“My eyes darted between the two security cameras on the roof. Despite feeling cynical lately about the effectiveness of government, I had a feeling that these cameras were both working and monitored around the clock. I felt so patriotic.”

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