Backwards Trajectory

In the bustling streets of Los Angeles, amidst the dazzling flurry of colors, where signs of stillness are unresponsive,  we greet one another, 

Car to car. 

The bearded man with his seemingly-ironed suit waves his silver crowns
to the woman with black lipstick smeared onto her philtrum in the next lane; the little girl with a Snow White pouch draped around her hips  winks at the white-haired man with a bouquet of pink roses on the left seat. 

And I,  With my bright yellow dress and perfectly ginger locks of hair, 
Am welcomed with arched, squinted eyelids
From every car
From every color. 

We smile until our gums are shown, we sing until the traffic light turns green,  we become lovers from strangers,  in the snap of a finger, underneath the city of stars.

Poem by Yukyung Katie Kim

Image by Adam Strong

Yukyung Katie Kim is a ninth-grader attending Deerfield Academy in Deerfield, Massachusetts. As a writer, she is particularly interested in realistic and historical fiction. As well as creative writing, Yukyung enjoys visual art and playing the oboe in her free time.

the porch light is off
and I’m holding a pint tub of yogurt ice cream
with both hands. I’m watching it sweat
white beads onto my lap like
the droplets of milk that an infant can’t 
quite catch on his mother’s breast. I’m watching us 
all convince ourselves we’re better off immortal.
I’m on my mother’s doorstep. All that rhythm 
in the downbeats of my mother’s 
slices while she’s making seaFood. 
when we dissected a pig’s liver 
some people felt personally
offended by the stench. I didn’t  
because solitude whispers into my throat 
when I think of anything existential. mouth 
to mouth with solitude is like noticing the 
wrinkled skin sagging off my mother’s neck. 
if I sit here too long I’ll convince 
myself we’re rational enough to live forever.

Image by Adam Strong

Poem by Isabella Dunsby

Isabella (Jia) Dunsby is a student at Seoul Foreign School in South Korea and will graduate
in 2024. She enjoys creative writing, economics, photography, and jazz music on rainy
nights. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Polyphony Lit, Apprentice Writer, Blue Marble Review, and Cathartic Youth Literary Magazine.

Natalie Kwon is a student attending St. Stephen’s Episcopal School in Austin, Texas. Besides creating artwork, she enjoys playing golf and the trumpet in the school orchestra. 

“I’m only 17”
I’ve never believed in the afterlife,
never believed that the body is a mere vessel,
a shell to be discarded—
this is as close to death as I’ve ever come:
a Sunday morning in late May at 5:30,
my mother in her room, my father in his.
I put on my coat and step outside. The air is damp;
it has rained all night long. It breaks my heart to leave them here,
alone with their sorrow and their pain. But what can I do?
I’m only seventeen.

Poem by Claudia Wysocky

Image by Adam Strong

Claudia Wysocky, a Polish poet based now in New York, is known for her ability to capture the beauty of life through rich descriptions in her writing. She firmly believes that art has the potential to inspire positive change. With over five years of experience in fiction writing, Claudia has had her poems published in local newspapers and magazines. For her, writing is an endless journey and a powerful source of motivation.

Image by Alice Wilson.

Who had this to say:

My work looks at ‘ugliness’ and how it is elided with scariness. I am interested in how beauty is weaponized against women to trap and distract us. I draw ugly scary monsters and then write sweet little vignettes to accompany them, about how, for example, the creature depicted is called Pamela and she has just enjoyed watching a Cash in the Attic omnibus. Or the toothless monster called Heather is thrilled because she has just learned how to purl stitch.

Through inviting a reconsideration of the attributes we subconsciously assign to the ugly, I hope to bring a sense of warmth and connection to ugliness in ourselves and each other. My aim is that this can slightly loosen the choke-hold of the cult of beauty. 

Alice Wilson is completing her PhD on women who build tiny houses. Her illustrations were selected for a feature in Gaze Magazine in 2021, and were featured on the cover of WrongDoing Magazine in 2022.

The past few weeks
I helped to clear out my father’s office space
While he lay in a coma for several weeks 
A surgery gone foul
A scalpel at the wrong place 
His life stripped out of existence 
Silent on the bed 
I rummage through his cubbies
Fishing out paper after paper of numerical babble 
Finding a bag of hidden beef jerky resting on its side 
Teriyaki flavored 
And half empty 
Took it home to where it belonged 
In my silent room 
In the pitch darkness of the night 
I stare at the screen, trying to forget his face on the hospital floor 
Opening the bag 
He has left me a gift of jagged pieces of jerky 
With tough edges that he refused to eat 
Chewing on the expired bits of jerky, 
his gone hands texture the meat 
While my tears season every bite with remorse

Poem by David Kim

Image by Adam Strong

David Kim is a high school student at Seoul International School in South Korea who has a passion for writing. He is currently working hard to build his portfolio for university applications. When he is not writing, David can be found listening to music, playing video games, or exploring new places in the city. He is excited to see where his writing journey takes him and hopes to share his work with others

Sean Kang, a sophomore at the renowned Korean International School in Seoul, South Korea, channels his passion for creativity and the arts into a multitude of immersive pursuits. At the age of sixteen, he diligently curates a comprehensive portfolio as part of his preparations for higher education.

I thought I had put the car in park,

Before it had burst into flames

billowing smoke Burning flesh, trapped, 

in a machine of my own creation, 

frantically feeling for an exit, 

unable to pull, push, leave.

The flame that warmed became an inferno, engulfed the sight, the smell, 

Exposing the warming mechanism, the shock, 

My body’s reaction,  returned, by any passerby

Yet, only the most perceptive of onlookers, 

those piteous enough to feel beyond the shock, 

heard the screams,

I thought no one would be able to hear.

Poem by Eric Velleux

Photo by Adam Strong

Eric Velleux is an often aspiring artist and poet from Minnesota.  Most days, he can be found out in the world, experiencing nature and people.  On other days, out of the world, writing, painting, and making music.  He has two children who are loved dearly. 

stories are not linear
or predictable
(he/she/they)
(they/she/he)
and so on

there will be heartbreak, pain,
love, fear, life, joy,
in that order or
another order
with some of those things
with none of those things

you may have a career,
(become a scientist)
get married,
(him? her? them?)
go to college
(the smell
of new notebooks and the
of your right hand a constant cramp)

 all of these
or none of these.
or something utterly
and
completely different

love is marked naked and then blurred
life is undressed understanding, for it is the unconvinced
who scream, “help me”
and no one is listening

Poem by Lisa Rabey

Image by Adam Strong

LISA RABEY (she/they) writes a GenXer about town newsletter at https://amostunreliablenarrator.substack.com. Her favorite Elizabeth Bennet is Keira Knightley. She is @herioneinabook.