Arts and Humanities Commons^™

Zine Group A, Hailey Aspinwell, Tyler Amato, Ashlee Anderson, Destiny Andrade, Allison Beck, Owen Lavelle, Kenny Dyson, Vishal Fatania

Bryant Zines

No abstract provided.

Creativity And The Arts, Jenna Gardner, Megan Skasen, Erica Barley, Carley Pearson, Abby Rae, Lucy Smith, Owen Lavelle, Adibhav Gupta

Bryant Zines

No abstract provided.

Lcs Group C, Abigail Rae, Conor Manning, Darian Ramos, Derek Frame, Gabrielle Weiner, Haozhe Li, Juliana Mandile, Kasey Thomas, Yiming Huang

Bryant Zines

No abstract provided.

Lcs Zine Group, Julia Robertson, Liam Peterson, Collin Acampora, Hannah Bloomwald, Megan Lawlor, Maya Nguyen

Bryant Zines

No abstract provided.

Art, Arash Boostani, Katharine Babbitt

Bryant Zines

No abstract provided.

Red, John Famiglietti, Samantha Grennon, Jacob Goodman, Rylee Wirtanen, Griffin Gosule, Kyriana Chambo, Carolyn Reimer, Hunter Poitras

Bryant Zines

No abstract provided.

When I Think About The Funeral, I Find I Can Taste The Mints, Nichole Page

Bryant Literary Review

I can hear the crinkle of the wrapper, the sniffling and speeches

My fingers push it from the plastic casing giving me something to do

Bedside Vigil, Catherine Jagoe

Bryant Literary Review

Because each night when I was pregnant

my husband rubbed my aching feet

and still does, when I’m grieving or in such pain

Grief, Be My Coverlet, Mohja Kahf

Bryant Literary Review

Grief, be white daisies

A Sweet Kid, William Torphy

Bryant Literary Review

I wait anxiously in the United terminal sipping a cup of coffee and feeling ungrounded. My nephew’s flight from Baltimore is late because of a severe weather system over the Midwest. My sister Kat tells me that Justin has become very selfish, even for a teenager, and that he lies and constantly tries to manipulate.

My Father’S Loaves And Fishes, Lennie Hay

Bryant Literary Review

In his soft throaty voice he speaks of rice—

washing and rinsing hard kernels,

how hands knock them on the side of a pot

until water runs clear. How it will rise

Gunn Hill, Pat Daneman

Bryant Literary Review

Given time, a place becomes a thing

small enough to hold in memory’s grip,

strong enough to struggle free. Frightened

The Flood, Elizabeth Underwood

Bryant Literary Review

I wake

and I am alive

but the wine in my glass

from the night before

is dead.

Let Go, Jane Flint

Bryant Literary Review

Ten minutes

to pack up all my things

like a pocket

turning inside out

Borders, Mary Makofske

Bryant Literary Review

Drawn in ink or blood,
they unspool from history
to split mountains and valleys,
meander in rivers that twist

Weeds In Her Curly Hair, Hareendran Kallinkeel

Bryant Literary Review

“I need a dagger,” Shiva says, “double-edged…and razor-sharp.”

The blacksmith turns from his furnace and stares at him in
surprise. What the hell is a renowned writer doing here? he thinks as he
stands up and walks towards Shiva.

Chemo, Carolyn Adams

Bryant Literary Review

As you turn to the oncoming magic,
what subsumes?

Because everything can’t stay
at the surface, what is forgotten?

Mud And Truth, Hannah Kass

Bryant Literary Review

Tsofi knew the story since her mother began telling it to her and her brother almost every night. Other villagers would notice how her people did not eat the same meat or observe the same day of rest. In her mind those differences were as arbitrary as preferring to eat lamb or chicken. Yet such arbitrary reasons had sparked the most violent of reactions.

Dreams Of Flight, Beth Paulson

Bryant Literary Review

A man with wings large enough and duly attached might learn to overcome the resistance of air. Leonardo da Vinci

No Icarus, you knew pulleys and winches would keep a man tethered
to earth though he rise high above a stage for a duke’s entertainment.
In your fabrico you built mechanical birds of wood and bright-dyed
linen, then raised men up on ropes to fly and float, angels with dark
curls, gilt-edged wings.

Red Fox On Zaleski Trail, Deborah Fleming

Bryant Literary Review

Vinton County, Ohio

On the trail through hillsides

twice shorn of woodlands

The Music Box, Cliff Saunders

Bryant Literary Review

Sing the gap between food and electricity

into a spirit unlike any other.

Fantasy, Joseph Murphy

Bryant Literary Review

When I hear the mountain’s voice, words rise from a burnt page and a door in my heart swings open.

Jaffa Coffee, Tehila Wenger

Bryant Literary Review

The waitress placed the cappuccino down carefully on my left, next to the open computer. I glanced into the mug and noted that there was no design in the foam. My anticipation for the caffeinating process dropped immediately by several degrees, along with my belief in the basic goodness of mankind.

Silent Elegy, Anna Leigh Morrow

Bryant Literary Review

What I want to say is

there are no words.

The Missing You settles beneath my ribs like

Brutality, Laurie Lessen Reiche

Bryant Literary Review

I.

There is something I want to say about brutality.

It comes out the lips of the hateful

mother, the beautiful mother.

If The Stars Had Voices, Buff Whitman-Bradley

Bryant Literary Review

If the stars had voices
They would surely sound
Like cricket song

Charcoal Nude, John Sibley Williams

Bryant Literary Review

Roughed-up: edges indistinct: body

softly black & blending with all this white

An Open Letter To The White Feminists Holding A Literary Panel On Toni Morrison, Matthew E. Henry

Bryant Literary Review

look to your left, your right—where

are her sisters? why are they missing?

Mud Minor Mass, Kevin Walker

Bryant Literary Review

Even Johann Sebastian Bach
had to fake it through the mirk
on merciless days,

Amends, Renay Costa

Bryant Literary Review

Quinn searched the chalkboard menu of the café deliberating what the appropriate beverage would be. What does a soon-to-be-divorcée drink while composing a letter to the man she separated from about a month ago? Wine would be the obvious option, but she was now a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, and the letter was part of the ninth step, which required her to “make direct amends” to those she had harmed, and tonight she was attempting her amends to Gil, her soon-to-be ex-husband. A pumpkin spice latte, her regular order, seemed too saccharine and sentimental.