Category: Poetry

Rockefeller in Winter

The glow brightens the scarlet on my nose and the burning in my chest. It’s impossible to hide in the radiance, Hands reaching for hands, ungloved. My want sticks out like a sore thumb, Shining and blazing in the city crowds. Even when the biting cold of December stings my cheeks, I can feel the […]

Caitlin Bartley '24

Times Square 

“Death to the sky!” Cried ants being beaten out by human heels. Each morning the crows wake me  With cackling cries. I think At least fifty flock to my room. Spirals without direction, Drawn in the earth, Drawn from the ant’s mind, Aimless spirals, because what the hell Were we ever following? Ants and crows […]

Max Gilman '25

The Unthinkable

I hate the way the sun goes down in the evening. I love to talk with strangers. I hate to say I could be happier. I love dancing beneath pine trees. I hate how I can’t climb ten feet up any tree trunk. I love appreciating stillness. I hate spiders and centipedes. I love to […]

Max Gilman '25

Autumn Gold

The sun in the noon-day sky is a giant beaming dandelion severed from its stem, Freely floating over the earth. A disembodied puff of flower head Liberated from earthly laws, Immortalized above the clouds despite the passing of its sister buds in the onslaught of November frost. Upon a barren hill, My fingers reach as […]

Sarah Klema '23

For Growing up in Rain

For grinded-teeth car rides; For growing up.  For being beaten into pavement; To prove a point.  For oily cat piss stains beneath the bed; For abandonment.  For coins and green paper; To live in a shadow.  For low-tide seas; For a shiny shell that breaks in a year.    Litter lent my nose the scent […]

Max Gilman '25


Content warning: graphic violence  A shovel exuding the earth, Harking clouds, splattered in red– Judging which lays beneath dirt, God fearing pillar to man, Searing skies with treacherous stares, Branded children sway to a hurricane’s wind, Barely fogging outlines of a justice driven structure. Eventually the skies may clear, My grandmother told me, In an […]

Max Gilman '25

Return to Sender 

I found an envelope today.  It was pretty bent out of shape.  The stamps collected on top of one another,  Adding a raised texture to the paper’s surface.  The penciled-in cursive has faded over the years, And there are small tears bordering the edges.  Unopened, its surface has aged incredibly  But the words sealed inside […]

Anna Pomeroy '23