By Vivian Simon SC ’28 I was in New York for exactly twelve hours this summer. I landed at Newark in my Canadian tuxedo and I stepped out and it was 96 degrees and glorious. The off-city stench filled me with an unprecedented joy. It’s hot in Claremont. I can’t breathe. Week two or three and it is one hundred eight degrees. It’s so hot. … Continue reading New York to Los Angeles
By Willa Umansky PZ ’27 I’m in some room nowhere, the room is the world and nothing exists beyond its walls. Like I said, some room nowhere. The room has wooden walls and a muddy-colored carpet, and there is a grain on my vision that makes it feel like 1997, even though I only know what the 90s looked like from pictures. Maybe that’s the … Continue reading Death and Such
Words by AnonymousGraphic by Ben Connolly PZ ’26Doodles by Leo Bowman PZ ’25 i am unraveling a calamitous disaster pace, woefully languid i’d bathe in your sunlit eyes and dance upon the freckles that decorate your arms so i’ll let it take me crestfallen and despondentcuz i’m reduced to my want for youpersonhood carved awayi look at the glow of the moon, my stomach has pits i’m furiously … Continue reading spectral silhouettes, arduously silent
By Edie Vigushin SC ’24, Willa Umansky PZ ’27, Zoe Lusk PZ ’25 entangled in the clear bowl atop my mother’s bureau. Like little metallic fish. z I kneel before the moon praying to feel small, hoping to see that moon which casts wonder and renders me speechless, instead I see only my bleeding skin reflected back at me. My mind is bloated and salted, … Continue reading Fragments
Words by Tye Iverson PZ ’26, Artwork by Maya Rafael PZ ’27 A habit is a placeholder. An item which binds you to the activities shining in your right arm, held together through your wrist and down to your forefingers. It waves hello to the goodbye you’ll see on the other side of a day. My Obsessions are a lock. A foot to a can … Continue reading A Broken Foot And A Clean Tire
By Noah Schiller PZ ’26 I long for the color greenand its rippling hues that sway silentIn the forgotten forests of my memory They sang a simple songOne I could understandPerhaps even sing along to, butI don’t know the wordsI don’t know the words The melody was tenderWelcoming me intoTheir green, green placeWashing weary eyes in emerald watersBubbling past baby bamboo shootsBaritones of this symbiotic … Continue reading Symphony
By Willa Umansky PZ ’27 do you relate to henry miller? also do you believe in god? Tv show idea ozempic Ensemble cast gooooodbyeee new yorkkkk i’m tired on the plane and for some reason the volume on my television doesn’t work downloaded music and books are all i know sigh the pilot warned us of turbulence west of Denver plane full of new york … Continue reading As seen in my notes app
By Tye Iverson PZ ’26 The certificate that I bled over, the one that had my tears staining my palms white with mountains of salt, finally landed me in this room. My whole life I’ve waited for a moment such as this. My parents have always expected nothing but greatness, and it seems as though I’ve delivered. Oh, to be on the top floor; the … Continue reading Private Dry-Cleaners
Words by Luca Rudenstine PZ ’26 11/23/22 I just couldn’t watch another womanhate herself anymoreI trimmed off her strong tender skin its cloth falling at my feet. And hung it up in her closet like anold work blouseWithout a body there was no more suffering. She was a goddess. I used to wake up mornings,limping back to the chapel room my scale, a churchMounting my feet on it … Continue reading Poems from my notebook – of body
By Willa Umansky PZ ’27 I wanted to wear pants because it’s cold and the wind has been nipping at my thighs more than it used to since I’ve been calling paradise home for long enough now. I tried a few pairs that I thought could work. I ended up in tights and a dress with the cold still sinking its teeth into me. I … Continue reading My Hips and I
