The Observer

Swallowed

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Kristina Kolanovic Contributing Writer Published: March 3, 2011 Denim stains thrashing and membranes catching all that makes you you, and that’s who? Take a moment to taste the weather and yellow flicking is average when above average flicks bring out sunshine from the sleeves of a jacket. Breaking when realizations ar...

OkCupid

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By William Ortel Contributing Writer Published: March 3, 2011 I’m surrounded by a crowd of ravenous, comparison-shopping bachelorettes. In these circumstances, a young man must keep his wits about him. I try to look sexy by looking away from the camera and wearing a blue blazer. That works sometimes; sometimes I have...

Absolute Necessity

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

  By Kevin Fitzpatrick Contributing Writer Published: February 17, 2011 Ellen peered into the closet and bit her lip thoughtfully. She needed to look exceptional for her job interview. Nudging the gardener’s hanging body out of the way, she reached for her black button-up top. “How about this with the skirt,” she asked...

Somethings

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Bianca Leggio Contributing Writer Published: February 17, 2011   There’s much to be said and it’s tonight, That it pulls me away from nothing into Nameless something, a glimmer’d light Across my bones as I fold towels in dark.   Your song rippling in my bluey pools, The image of ...

White Flag for Egypt

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Salma Elmehdawi Asst. Photo Editor Published: February 17, 2011   A stranger feigning patriotism waves a white flag; he is in my body, his front teeth curve into white flag.   Over there is my country, its limbs crooked and warped like a tree’s root, refuses white flag.   My ch...

The Old Man with the Vulture Eye

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Margo Masi Contributing Writer Published: February 3, 2011 The lighting was dim and muzzled television sounds filled the space. Luke on the sofa, his brown hair slightly side-swept, fought a New York Times crossword puzzle. He was waiting for Erin to put down her things—a purse, an umbrella, a set of keys—waitin...

A Dancing Feat

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By J. Sebastian Rojas Contributing Writer Published: February 3, 2011 What are the tops of feet called? Yours are as smooth as a lathered bathtub And always navigate where my feet crawl. They are the definition of “snug,”   Putting me to sleep with their heat, Even if my sheets are cold and tor...

Hurricane Katrina

August 3, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Ella Ceron Contributing Writer Published: February 3, 2011 There are more monks in Bhutan, more monks than peace than soldiers than war. There is more of nothing left but rebuilding the city walls are made of concrete and shattered. Shattering picture frames and glass of memory and things put together that never went ...

Haiku Summer, in Four Stanzas

Haiku Summer, in Four Stanzas

August 3, 2011

By MATT PETRONZIO Literary Editor Published: August 4, 2011   Summer is a hand- washed...

Somewhere in New York City

July 31, 2011

Filed under Literary

Published: December 9, 2010 Students in Helene Stapinski’s Writing About Place master class write vignettes on a favorite place in New York City– a corner, a hidden spot, their own take on a more well-known location. CHINATOWN Liz Bowen Editor-in-Chief I’m usually freezing when I go to Chinatown. Sometimes I’m downtown to catch u...

#18

July 28, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Evangelos Razis Contributing Writer Published: November 4, 2010 The radiant sun in a stainless sky Enshrined by verdant bounty, Breeding mirth and harvest Lark and fare, those tax for mind and county   The warmth of soil, the fretful soul Baked and calmed by sun— Those fixtures of thought, belo...

Of Singular Mind

July 28, 2011

Filed under Literary

By Zoë Simpson Contributing Writer Published: November 4, 2010 Who wrote the villain? With snatching claw and glinted eye What beast makes short The name?   One line draws the soul, Or so cuts common crafter’s ink— A singular Image,   Where saints may stumble And the wicked spare...