Anime Boyz

By Lydia Wei, Em Power, Adelina Rose Gowans, Sanjula Narayanan, Ann Dinh, Anne Rong, Carly Chan, Mae, Melissa Sibilla, Mica Pascual, Nina Joseph, Peach and Sherri Keys

Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version of this zine

Cassie and the Flood

By Kia Matanky-Becker and Miles Simpson

  Cassie had creases in her cheeks, they were wrinkled like fingers that had spent too long in the bath; Cassie had a leak, she had a tearaway tear duct that was responsible for the flood, her clothes were soaked through, they stick to her skin like a wet suit. Every suit Cassie wore was […]


By Lauren Lisk and Simran Misir

  (Chords: A, B, C#, E) I could never meet your expectations Always out of reach Never gave me an explanation I could never be free Clip my wings so I can’t fly Tear my down every time I try I know I could never be in her place When I needed you you just […]

Bad Vibes Only

By Libby Russell, Emily Fletcher, Celia Mostachfi and Lydia Wei

Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version of this zine


By Priya Abularach and Hannah Beitchman

Contains strong language Download a screen-reader friendly version

A Tale of Two Counties

By Ellora Sutton and Hannah Hodgson

Contains strong language Download A Tale of Two Counties (zine)  

She strikes the ball like a match

By Cia Mangat

for Chioma Ubogagu                               Good God! Watch her, how she  swallows the crowd-song,                               how boldly she strikes the pitch’s borders with her                               toes, warping the white lines, the way she knows to reduce each sun                               in the stadium lights to a ball, how she kicks into the                                midst of each fiery […]


By Finn Farnsworth

Swift and agile Sleek and prehensile – Skittering across bark And as dexterously over brick – Squirrel. The arch survivor – A thief in woodland A bandit of suburbia, Beautiful peanut pirate. You skim the rigging of Rotary washing lines And old telephone wires: Your sail-tail A Spinnaker of balance – A back garden acrobat. […]


By Amy Wolstenholme

In Portland we don’t use the word, we dance around it –  furry things, we’d say, the furry things are in backfield again. As a child I only knew I should never look directly at them, the same way I knew not to look at the sun. It was wrong. It would hurt later on. […]

In Praise of Desolation

By William Snelling

A sunlight-mottled river shunts its weight Towards the sea, having nowhere else to go; Even the evening’s syrupy light can’t glaze it Into something pretty. The days are slow, So I come back often to this crease in the city’s palm, Where you might see a rabbit stare from the gorse Then vanish as quick […]

watching the match at the field on berkeley road

By Natalie Perman

Contains strong language next to the vineyard tree pub extra ordinaire free gravy on the side with all chips and running down the carvery yellow walls as brown shadow coats rusted telephone poles in something pretty home of the famous hooke team their sweaty shins and boys crying after hours behind the mccoll’s dogs pissing […]

At The Farm

By Max Dixon

Leaves falling through my open window, I hear thorn bushes rustling in the wind. I see trees dropping apples, Birds rustling their way through the thick branches To reach their nests. Eagles swooping down on my house, Searching for rats. Horses running from the barn. I hear the sudden noises of the cows mooing, Ants […]


By Jack Cooper

They were here when I arrived; decadent strata of spots in rich orange, red, and green, a pointillist Zhangye Danxia on the ceiling of my student en-suite. I tried to kill them, but they came back, appearing out of nowhere                    like an absurd flash mob so I shower each morning under a hundred spiteful […]


By Grace Q. Song

walking down the side of my house, i count the number of steps it takes to cross this white field of pebbles. for months, i could not touch the world. i only knew it through the window in my room. now the wind bounds past me like a dog. someone has overturned a stone in […]

myopic man

By chenrui

man heaves up stairs man pauses on step seventy-two man spits a prayer man ascends man gropes doorway man forgets keys man forgets keys in back pocket man pushes through man finds air man plunges onto rails man seeks the bars man has cold cheeks man catches a cloud man lets it go man plucks […]

so you want to talk about the ap*calypse

By April Egan

the end times in numbers: 4 horsemen  1 cancelled judgement day  1 giant rip through the sky  1 ocean brimming with plastic  1 people at risk remember self-care!                                pumice from the endless eruptions is                                effective on dry arms. steaming pyres                                also have a cleansing effect on skin,                                if you have any left. have a blackout  […]

What I Learnt from Reading the News

By Hannah Aston

after Kate Bingham I learnt that words don’t mean anything, That your hands do all the talking. I learnt that you don’t always have to tell the truth And I learnt that there’s always a loophole To weasel your way through. I learnt how to take offence at an inanimate object And how to play […]

someone calls me the c word and i respond

By Emma Chan

there are worse things to be. i could be, for instance, dying, or alive, but just enough to be taking up space. i could wade through a body that does not belong to me. yes, i could ravage, rumble, sour your milk, bite your children, poison your evening news. i could enlist my grandparents to […]

in response to eliezer wiesel’s night

By Jasmine Kapadia

this is the moment skeletons became atheists. gold lodged in the back of throats and stuck, rigor mortis like you never had a chance. and maybe the soup tastes like corpses, or maybe the soup tastes like god. or like angels, and cracks in the barbed wire. because skeleton is a synonym for survivor, in […]

How to Kill a Tiger

By Annie Cao

                                The sky reddening like an unbruised body—           and you,          gone for days now, calcified in this unshed nightmare where the tiger           is closing its teeth over your wrist again,                    dozens of rabbit carcasses littering the halls again,                    tiger slipping quiet through the nights, […]

get out of my face

By Ottavia Paluch

Somewhere out there is a statue of me where my face isn’t as long, my sadness shorter. I meet with her head-on. I tell her to turn in the direction of the power ballads and the attractive folks that sing them. I’ve just seen a face, says Paul McCartney in the middle of 1965, and […]