A Harrier's Pace

by Steven O'Driscoll

On, Off, On, Off...

           The lights in the music hall flicker on and off, signaling that the concert will start shortly. Audience members take their seats, as the players warm up their instruments. The lights go out: Silence. The conductor delicately glides to center stage. I stand in the percussion section, waiting.

Over Hard

by Elizabeth Sheedy

          Every year, we pay homage to the hallowed summer as it rollicks down its Neoclassical arcade, conveying with it a coupe of carbonated sunlight and buffoonery by the bucketful. Throughout this tricolon of months, celebrants pipe sonatinas into flutes of nightly Dom Pérignon Brut Rose. Sweltering days strip naked of their blouses to expose their skin and breeze to the sea, the weed, the popsicle firecrackers liquefying on our fingers before takeoff. Comedian crickets uphold the social concourses in the deep twilights bookended by downsliding sunsets and sunrises that peak over the horizon like giant agnolotti pastas. Beyond the exosphere, constellations host rooftop parties; some guests arrive earlier, others later, but someone (probably Orion) brings the space-grass, and on such occasions, the sky is opaque with clouds.

cloudspeak: a collection of haikus

by Olivia Bello

On a blue-sky day
They say the clouds will whisper

I want to hear them.

No More

by Ella Segall

The sky is dark
as dad drives me and mom to the airport
Even at such a early hour,
the roads are crowded

Venatio; Lucid Oversleep; Aural Hallucinogens; Lemon Rinds and the High Ceiling; Withdrawal

by Liz Sheedy

I. Venatio

A B-flat bugle exudates measures in a scabrous paroxysm of sound;

each successive tintinnabulation wrinkles the duck cloth encircling

my vision into folds analogous to flapjacks piled as high as the

Triangulum Galaxy. My neurons sense a skillet’s touch, a pucker mark

Loss

by Aidan Seguin

sing me a song,

of a loss,

of a friend,

whom you share many memories,

none of which you can bend,