Creatives & Entertainment

11/1/2025 0 Comments

Gabrielle Sethi

In the quiet dark, I wondered why
The stars above were born to shine,
Fierce and untamed, a scattered flame,
Each one a struggle, none the same.

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11/1/2025 0 Comments

Andrea Bustillo (she/he/they)

Two strangers stand at a crosswalk,
A fluorescent man is reflected in the concrete,
The earth is waiting;
The humid air is still.

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10/1/2025 0 Comments

Rowan (He/They)

L for the Love I feel from my community
B for the fact that I can Be myself
G for the Gift of being able to love
T for the Trials we have overcome
Q for the Qualms we no longer have to face

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10/1/2025 0 Comments

Andrea Bustillo (she/he/they)

I don’t like writing about you.
You weren’t some pitiful tragedy I could
weave into golden thread.

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4/1/2025 0 Comments

Lydia Labovitz (she/her)

everyone keeps trying
to squeeze us
into little boxes

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2/1/2025 0 Comments

Lydia Labovitz (she/her)

People are, for some reason, quite fond of asking when your birthday is. Usually, I assume they have the best of intentions. Maybe they practice the American cultural tradition of birthday parties (which are actually, believe it or not, a very recent innovation), and want to plan gifts or festivities in advance. They could perhaps be believers in astrology, hoping to predict someone's fortunes and personality from the stars under which they were born. Or maybe they're just a scammer seeking answers to security questions, in the name of stealing your Internet accounts.

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12/1/2024 2 Comments

morena's gay coffee review

morena (she/her)

So, for this month’s issue I wanted to keep it very light hearted. Consequently, this monstrosity was created- a tier ranking of every place in Ann Arbor that I have ordered an iced mocha from.

Enjoy!

2 Comments

12/1/2024 1 Comment

the poem i was going to write

Lydia Labovitz (she/her)

i was going to write a happy little poem
about a first kiss
or about true love
or about a place of joy and acceptance,
built under the brilliant stars

1 Comment

11/1/2024 0 Comments

After Three Years, She Said We'd Better Be Friends

Yuting (she/they)

Last night, I sat on your apartment floor
taking gulp after gulp
from your whiskey bottle in my arms.
It was dark, only the street lights
slipped through the blinds.
I don’t know if they made my tears shine-
my never-ending tears, falling like beads,
running like a river.
I know you cherished them.

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