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Going Away

I remember the most beautiful party I have ever attended. It was held in a loft up-town. It was night-time, when the streets are brighter than the buildings and the eye is drawn slowly down, and I could see the Columbia University Observatory…

by Chris Arp on December 1, 2004March 17, 2013

Bicentennial Brother

David demarcated his territory on the waiting room chairs with assorted belongings: here a pencil, here a pair of sunglasses, here a pillow in a blue terrycloth sleeve…

by Rob Buerki on December 1, 2004March 17, 2013

In Your Absence, the Magnolia Outside My Window

A week ago, their buds held tight:
points poked from shells…

by Maggie Dillon on December 1, 2004March 17, 2013

Ribe, Morning After Rain

Paths puddled with still water,
grass shellacked, peristaltic
stretch of slugs to inch along…

by Maggie Dillon on December 1, 2004March 17, 2013

Your Twenty-Second Birthday

Today is your birthday. You are twenty-two years old and unsure what you want to do with your life.

by Erin Kappeler on December 1, 2004March 17, 2013

Quaker Motes

“That child is getting a synagogue confirmation as sure as I’m standing here,” Joe told his wife.

by Elizabeth Landau on December 1, 2004March 17, 2013

Portraits of My Father

He no longer sleeps in the bed they shared. He did for a little while, which surprised me. I would have thought her absence would have been the most palpable there, but I suppose the imprint on her pillow was the nearest thing he had to a kiss goodbye.

by Kailee Erickson on November 17, 2004March 17, 2013

A Mindy City

It has been two days since we declared war on the relationship between Joe and his girlfriend, and the battle is going well.

by Peter Landwehr on November 10, 2004March 17, 2013

Healthy

First thing I do when I come home from work every evening is get on the old University cast-off PC and see how my symptoms are doing; listen to my body. I got a little headache some days, a little cold others.

by Brian DeLeeuw on November 3, 2004March 17, 2013

Thumbs, or Glut Your Soul Upon My Accursed Ugliness

Genetics, via habit, go into greater detail.
Mine are uneven and gnawed, on-again-off-again

by Randy James on October 6, 2004March 17, 2013

Floating

My father drove the rented Ford the wrong way down a one-way road. It didn’t matter: we seemed to be the only people driving that day anyway.

by Brook Padilla on October 6, 2004March 17, 2013

Hope

Today we dissect Hope.
Grasp firmly your scalpels
and press with caution against its onionskin surface.

by Yvon Wang on October 6, 2004March 17, 2013


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