
Liana Florez
2015

Liana Florez
2015
December 1994Anthony is sunken into the queen-sized mattress pulling his knees up to his chin. He clutches at his ankles withblistered hands. Hands that had built some of the structures that surround the city, but he would never notice.His palms are thick and brawny. Big blue veins emphasizethe muscles that gloat over his metacarpals. His…
Untitled Elizbeth Bachmaye ’16
The birds sing louder…Not because of joy or pain,Or sadness or fear.They sing louder because,The cars howl under their homes. Yannick Wallace2012
SIGNS OF LIFE Andrea Wentzell ’15
Nola Kane, ‘19 I wanted to give money to the homeless man in the cityGrandma always said noThey’ll go buy drugsNow I know you need more than justA dollar for drugsThey just want some food or some coffeeto get through the dayTo feed their hopeAll around were homelessEvery street doubled with themSad and scrawnyWearing coats…
I’m having a love affair with my pillow.No matter how many times it doubles in size—soaked with the weight of my problems—or I smear all my makeup from another long day,or I scrunch and I squish it this way and that,it loves me back.Every night, it cradles my face,and for hours while I dream—helpless and…