A thousand years from now, due to a series of massive continental floods, there will be no good reason to write letters. I will be suffering greatly, and I will have a waterproof box to keep my letter writing supplies.
The day I uncapped the bell jar your absence rang loud in my ears The roaring sound laid waste to everything in it’s wake Forcing me into hibernation When I awoke I closed my hands into fists Clenched my jaws
God pronounced me dead on the scene He said between these blades of grass and the songs you have to see is a cradle and vascular system and these bones are made out of the rubble of Jacob’s ladder This
By Tyler Sullivan “What now? you asked. And that was my students’ question, too. What now? I answered them as poorly as I answered you, I fear. And so I sit here now in the middle of the night, in
Cameron Johnson and the Editors of the Pointed Circle; Cascade Campus — For the past two terms the editing crew of Professor Wendy Bourgeois’ Writing 246 class have been meeting together to assemble Cascade Campus’ annual literary magazine, the Pointed Circle.