

This Side of the River
Samantha Jade Remigio
“I am not an essential worker. I should be more scared for them, I tell myself. They could bring the virus back home. My mother has asthma. But I don’t feel a thing. The world does not seem real to me anymore.”


One-Hundred Thousand Moments of Silence
Stewart Sinclair
The circumstances under which Memorial Day falls this year have brought me back to the same conclusions drawn by Kurt Vonnegut. “We are here, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.”

Beyond the Window/In Silence
Kay Bell
Beyond the window
where the water brings
the handsome things
a song overrides the wreck
I listen

Closing Remarks
Hayden Corwin
“I had to tell my mother that graduation wasn’t going to happen. She cried over the phone.”

I’m Grateful, But I’m Pissed
Dana Gainey
Now I’m here, and I like who I am here, but I find my current position, and this current state of affairs, as unconscionable, if not criminal.

Figure it Out
Nick Vidal
My mom enters the living room and finds me self-loathing on the couch. She can read my thoughts on my face. She stands there smiling until I finally look up and notice her. “Figure it out,” she says, and exits laughing.

Things I miss
Megan Malibiran
Now I fell far from worldly things and
Appreciate the lifeless wall instead

Office Hours
Kimberlee Mix
I am holding office hours for my class, a chance to say good-bye and swap smiles one last time. At the end of the Zoom link sits a virtual space I have curated with everything that fills the screen. My real office door is closed and for these next two hours I will be present.

And Then Comes a Lynching
Gabriel Noel
“This image of terror, and the thoughts of terror that circled it, brought back to me the conviction that here I was witnessing another manifestation of the tragedy of the United States.”




Revisiting “NuevaYorkino”
Alejandro D. Orengo Colón
In the middle of a pandemic, a filmmaker offers a video from a time when it was possible to cross oceans on journeys to forget.


A Working Class Prayer
C. Adán Cabrera
for my grandmother, who crossed deserts with naked feet and who once challenged the moon to a shouting match.


Part of the Same Place
Alexa Dayoan
A reflection on the real and imagined worlds in which we currently find ourselves confined. Together.
