ATHENAEA Spring 2022
Table of Cover............................................................................................................................ElsaContents Dorance iii. Dedication....................................................................................................Quinn Lander 1. Where I Was..............................................................................................Brody Rountree 2. Ode to Ollie....................................................................................................Claire Brown 3. UNTITLED....................................................................................................Francis Zhou 4. Haiku.........................................................................................................Various Authors 4. AUGUST................................................................................................Claire Rosenberge 5. When We’re 18................................................................................................Eliana Mora 6. cyrus..............................................................................................................Quinn Lander 7. HIDE AND SEEK.............................................................................................Lilly Farley 8. The Murk............................................................................................................Ava Sperber 8. ALONE TOGETHER...................................................................................Audrey Kline 9. From a Stressed Out Teenager.......................................................................Eliana Mora 10. UNTITLED.........................................................................................................Harry Wu 11. Haiku.........................................................................................................Various Authors 12. Fountain Valley School Poetry Competition 13. English First Place: Release .........................................................................Claire Brown 14. English Second Place: Hoops..............................................................Maleah Buchanan 15. English Third Place: Shadow................................................................................Elisa Liu 16. Translation First Place: yo soy música......................................................Analí Muciño 17. Translation Second Place: Yo Soy Yo.........................................................Natalie Haase 18. Translation Third Place: Los Girasoles...............................................Maya Litchenberg 19. UNTITLED...............................................................................................Naomi Edwards 20. Our Odyssey....................................................................................................Eliana Mora 21. UNTITLED........................................................................................................Lilly Farley 22. UNTITLED.....................................................................................................June Barnett 23. Birth Control...........................................................................................Campbell Brown 24. GOING GRAY.....................................................................................Claire Rosenberger 25. Happy Ever After.............................................................................................Laelim Jung 26. UNTITLED....................................................................................................Francis Zhou 27. Haiku.........................................................................................................Various Authors 28. Just Three Dudes.........................................................................................Quinn Lander i 31. MAKAR................................................................................................................Abby Lin 32. Where I’m From.............................................................................................Mia Sanchez 33. UNTITLED............................................................................................Joumana Abdelhy 34. CIRCLING PERFECTION........................................................................................L Ma 35. Haiku.........................................................................................................Various Authors 36. Incoming Call: Cyrus Lewis.....................................................................Mason Burdett 36. UNTITLED...................................................................................................Ruby Riecken 37. That Girl...........................................................................................................Jessie Prantl 38. PORTRAIT......................................................................................................Mia Sanchez 39. The Chemistry of Gentleness......................................................................Claire Brown 40. Haiku.........................................................................................................Various Authors 41. UNTITLED....................................................................................................Francis Zhou 42. Like Father, Like Son..................................................................................Quinn Lander 43. Where I Was..................................................................................................Caroline Ellis 44. UNTITLED.....................................................................................................Jackie Adams 45. Acknowledgements ii
OverDedicationmytimehereatFountain Valley, one thing that I can confidently say is that I have learned a lot. Not only has my academic experience here been informative, but the combination of a national, even global, perspective that I’ve gained from late night conversations, combined with every-day interactions with my friends from all over the world, has been truly enlightening. Between times of intense personal turmoil and moments of complete elation, I have formed a deeper relationship and understanding with myself as well. Many of the pieces you will read in this issue reflect events in people’s lives - a soured relationship, a grandparent’s death - that have ultimately been moments of great learning; and it is for these reasons that I dedicate this spring issue of Athenaea to the pursuit of knowledge.
wasonIinnotKalamazoo,thehousecoveredafallentree,forwasalreadysittinginsidethecouch,somethingmissing. one
Where I Was I was on a bus, of all places. My seventh grade class was on a field trip: an unusual time canoeing down a river to get eaten by mosquitoes and not sleep a lick. The trip I don’t remember much about: a generally uncomfortable adventure in hot and soggy woods. The memorable thing was my phone being returned out of the plastic bin. First notification missed a call from my mom no service for now. When I returned to the house, my parents wanted a conversation not the news I fearednot the impending failure of my report card, not us moving away to
-Quinn Lander iii
Oh Ollie Bollie, with your silky soft ears And your nubby helicopter tail And your cozy mitten paws that click-clack across the hardwood.
Hardtwo to listen to the words, tears rolling into my ears. It amounted to my cat Poor Swiftpaw, always teased for being scared and skittish, that heart murmur got to him, startled by the construction of the new neighbor’s house. -Brody Rountree Ode to Ollie When I first brought you home, You were so small that you could Scurry under the sofa and hide, A fluffy pom pom of rich chocolate.
My dear Ollie, my Oliver Brown, my munchy-hunchy boy, My animal creature, my foofler doofler, my handsome man, You have made my life far sweeter than I ever could have imagined. I love you, Ollie Bear.
-Claire Brown -Francis Zhou
With your Hershey kiss nose and fearsome tiny teeth And your grizzly bear heart stuck in the littlest of quadrupeds.
I don’t think you understood how cute you were, How much you began to soften my hunched shoulders And make mornings my favorite time of day.
You have made me love my daily car rides And learn to ignore the smell of wet fur And look forward to even the longest of days And delight in the way you go beserk for your koala toy. three
There is no fear of burning while singing unabashedly to Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus as we droop our bodies halfheartedly out the car window, hair bellowing behind us as the car speeds along the picturesque coast that only belongs in a movie. We ignore college emails and texts from parents as we breathe heavy, persevering to hike to the top looking for the final summit, the goal we never gave up on and the fruits of our labor. When we cry together over boys and friendships and families while our toes are enveloped in the grainy beach with the chirping birds and cotton candy skies that only exist on instagram.
lunarHaikueclipse
When We’re 18
Ear piercings, tattoos, and picnics in the park while we people watch and soak in the sun in our damp tank tops and too short shorts.
pockets inside out our side of the moon but the stars goes to sleep still shine bright -Mia Sanchez -Makar Shpilenok picking up stars in the bottom of the lake -Elisa Liu -Claire Rosenberger four five
The rocky shore plummets away as we are enveloped in the salty waves off the coast, a screaming blur of skin and hair. The future doesn’t exist when we’re together.
Tripping over our own feet, we giggle as we make our way back to our spot on the cool sand, ignoring the salty aftertaste and the scratches on our knees, admiring the ocean view and the prospect of fresh snow cones.
seven -Lilly Farley
We sweat out our fears and insecurities as if August would never appear and we’d never have to say goodbye and we’d be forever lost in the bittersweet, ignorant bliss that will be the summer of 2022 -Eliana Mora Wecyrusused to go climbing every day. You’d show up, late, in your loosely-tied Reeboks and we’d run our 5 warm-up laps together. We’d jog in circles around the track, shooting the scat about how hard your history test was or how it felt like Friday even though it was Tuesday. I’d always try to push you on those laps before practice, get you to run your hardest. After that we’d go down and we’d usually climb together, each of us having equally horrible footwork. When practice was over we’d walk up the hill to dinner to eat, discussing whether or not the chocolate milk seemed off that night and complaining about how skinny we were. But that was before Thanksgiving break. Now you can’t even stand up. You’re paralyzed. Suddenly, like a change in the wind. We try our best to stay in touch, but your life has changed directions. You have Bigger Things to worry about than Dr. G’s class or dinnertime beverage reviews. I know the things you tell me, but I hope - on the insideyou’re happy that you’re still alive, that you have faith in your purpose. And although I realize that things will never go back to the way they were, I can’t help but ask: can we still be six-Quinnfriends?Lander
A bad conversation with my dad, who everyone tells me is toxic
I’m not even 20! But it’s normal to be stressed at your age.
The pressure of deciding which college to go to
-Eliana Mora
The girl from fifth grade who bullied me off the swim team
The old chemistry assignment I forgot to turn in two years ago
A fight with my mom last summer about who knows what
one by one
Each colorless hair is:
Last week’s biology test I forgot to study for My dad being upset at me for “not texting him”
All weighing down, its effects visible on this small patch of graying hair.
-Audrey Kline eight
What am I going to do with my life? College? Career? Then what? I can’t even decide what to eat for lunch
The guilt I have being away from my family
The calculus test with a curve I failed
The regret I have with my sister for not trying hard enough and giving them anxiety that will affect them for the rest of their life and won’t get better no matter how hard I try because the Damage is done
Looking in the mirror, I sort through my hair one strand at a time and see a gray patch
Another math quiz that I forgot to study for
From a Stressed-Out Teenager
I examine each strand
My roommate giving me the silent treatment
nine
The TakeMurkmeback to clear waters Where I can see the ground wade in tattered jeans. Not this murk. Which has submerged my head Until I can’t tell Which way Is -Avaup.Sperber
And
election season the windy city blows hot air -Brody Rountree two red flannels competing in the androgynousclosetme-CarolineEllis a strand of her hair on my sweater buck -ConnermoonRichardson burial day her voice stillafterintroducesthebeep-ToryJensa new moon the -ScottstickssnowflaketothecoffinLebo eleven
Like wind blowing across the mountains, grazing the tops of your shoulders And making the pines shudder.
FirstTranslatedplace: Yo Soy Música, Anali Mucino, FVS Second Place: Yo Soy Yo, Natalie Haase, FVS
I want to feel my tongue resting on the floor of my mouth, My lips drooping at the corners, My eyebrows unfurrowing, My belly expanding back into its original form, The knot in my sternum unraveling.
Foutain Valley School Poetry Conest
Third Place: Shadow, Elisa ( Xiao) Liu, FVS
Fountain Valley’s literary magazine began in 1930 as The Fountain Valley Magazine. In the 1950s and 1960s, however, it published work by students at other independent schools in Colorado, and it changed its name to The Fountain Valley Literary Review. In 1966, under the direction of Hunter Frost, it became Athenaea and resumed its focus on intramural writing.
To feel my breath pour into every crevice, every ridge and dip and fold and pocket.
IReleasewantto soften into myself.
Third Place: Los Girasoles, Maya Litchenberg, FVS twelve
thirteen
This year, the city’s poet laureate, Ashley Cornelius, judged both the English and bi-lingual categories. She chose the three finishers in each category. We received over 75 entries in the two categories.
FirstEnglishPlace:
Second Place: Hoops, Maleah Buchanan, CIVA Charter School
I want to be able to sink into my back and know all of its terrain, Leaving a deep, weathered imprint like you would on your favorite couch.
English, First Place, Claire Brown
As faculty advisor for the magazine, I thought it would be rewarding and stimulating to publish poetry from other high school students in the Colorado Springs area. Hence, in 2010, we joined forces with the Pikes Peak Poet Laureate Project and created the first annual city-wide poetry contest.
I want to let my fingers go limp and let my knees fold in, Draping myself over my bones And just staying that way for a while. I could dip into my body And let the tension drip down the sides of my skin. I could breathe out to even my little pinky toes And fill the spaces in between with a warm forgiveness. And then I could finally live in the home That my body built for me so long ago, And give it the occupancy it’s been waiting for.
Release, Claire Brown, FVS
fifteen English, Second Place, Maleah Buchanan (The CIVA Charter School)
“What a beautiful journey.”
The only thing my cloudy eyes see Is an adventure coming for me I may not know my home But I know my heart I see through more than simple eyes But I must explore the real world And find the parts that show light Instead of darkness
Because this adventure I’m on my own
fourteen
Next hoop I jump is small and tall
IShadowdon’thave any friends, but I find a shadow in the corner of my room. I always sit with him all day long. So I have a friend now. He carried me away from all the noise and pain. I forget my childhood that collapsed in screams. He stays beside me all night long. So I stopped dreaming for tomorrow’s sunshine. He told me to run away. So I stopped crying for the very first time. He led me to a path with blinding beams, with my toes padding on the warm pebble road. He feeds me berries, mostly white berries. likeDivinethe cloud that sank down to kiss my scarring wrists. He held my hands across the river to inhale the fresh air with cedar’s smell. He stands behind me on the serene hill. I lean forward to embrace the wind. He brushes through my hair and whispers in my ears.
Memories most cruel and empty But I have no choice but to jump I must leap now
English, Third Place, Elisa Liu
IHoopswastold to be brave But I tremble shaky hands I was told to be confident But I can’t stand tall Unorganized and stressed I jump through the hoops With fire in my heart
The last hoop I jump The hoop to journey this future
And leave my other hoops behind I’m finished with the others A brave confident step before this
An avalanche of work and emotions
seventeen
Para la próxima aventura, estaba siempre esperando. Y ahora, soy esa niña en mi corazón
Quien ama la Tierra, con mucha razón Y con deseo de protegerlo, porque no hay comparación, de aventuras en la naturaleza y la magia que contiene. Yo protegeré mi hogar, nuestro hogar, el hogar de muchas cosas, el lugar de personas, animales, y todas las maravillas, Haré lo que los ricos ignoran. No permitiré que ellos ganen.
Translation, First Place, Anali Mucino yo soy música era la melodía de vida y amor mantas de canción envolvían con mi alma miraba a mi papá tocar la guitarra y pisaba en sus pies mientras bailábamos mi abuelita me cantaba canciones para dormir mientras el ritmo de amor fluía en mi cuerpo soy la melodía de vida y amor oigo sinfonías que ruge en la lluvia soy la salsa con mi papá en la cocina y el coro creado en el carro por mi hermana y yo escucho el lenguaje de la tierra tronando trovas en mi mente. seré la melodía de vida y amor gritaré y cantaré a las armonías que oigo quiero contar historias con mi voz ser la nana que los canta a mis niños a dormir recordaré el sonido de mi cultura olvidada y dejaré la música retumbar en mi corazón. i am music i was the melody of life and love blankets of song were wrapped around my soul i watched my papá play the guitar and stepped on his toes while we danced my abuelita sang me songs to sleep while the rhythm of love flowed through my body. sixteen
i am the melody of life and love i hear symphonies roaring in the rain i am the salsa dancing with my papá in the kitchen and the choir created with my sister in the car i listen to the language of the earth thundering ballads through my mind. i will be the melody of life and love i will shout and sing to the harmonies i hear i want to tell stories with my voice to be the lullaby that sings my children to sleep i will recall the sound of my forgotten culture and let the music echo in my heart.
Translation, Second Place, Natalie Haase Yo Soy Yo Yo era una niña de la tierra. La niña encantada por la sierra. Siempre pidiendo “puedo ir afuera?”
Never losing sight but at night what will become of the darkness?
Mirando al sol cada uno como viene día a día.
The Sunflowers
Never losing face, starting as a small tiny seed planted in the dark deep earth.
eighteen
A sprout appeared glimpsing its first glance at the bright yellow ball hanging in the sky
Facing the sun each one as it comes day by day.
-Naomi Edwards nineteen I Am Me
Once again facing the sun when the light joins the sky once again
Petals stretching out to find the light
For the next adventure I was always waiting. And now, I am that girl in my heart, Who loves the earth, with much reason, With a desire to protect it, for there is no comparison, of adventures in nature and the magic it holds. I will protect my home, our home, the home of many things, the place of people, animals and all things wonderful. I will do what the rich ignore, I will not allow them to win.
Translation, Third Place, Maya Litchenberg Los Girasoles
One day the petals will wither but they will keep living Living for the next day is more enticing than the time before.
The sunflower always looks to the sun, the bright side
De nuevo frente al sol cuando la luz se une al cielo una vez más Los pétalos se estiran para encontrar la luz.
El girasol siempre miraba al sol, al lado positivo Nunca pierde la cara, comienza como una pequeña semilla sembrada en la tierra oscura y profunda Apareció un brote que vislumbraba su primera mirada a la bola amarilla brillante colgando en el cielo. Lleno de asombro y luz, estirando su cuello al brillo Nunca pierde su vista, pero por la noche, ¿qué pasará con la oscuridad?
Full of wonder and light, stretching its neck to the light
I was the dirt girl, The girl enchanted by the mountain range, Always asking, “Can I go outside?”
Un día los pétalos se marchitarán pero seguirán viviendo Vivir para el día siguiente es más atractivo que la vez anterior.
-Lilly Farley twenty-one Our Odyssey “I’m selling the van.” My mom tells me this through one of our unplanned midday phone calls. I’m sitting in the confines of my poster-clad dorm room multitasking the biology presentation due next class and the new season of Manifest on Netflix, when she breaks the unexpected news. The bluish gray Honda Odyssey is the greatest van to ever exist. Still running after 16 years of lugging my sister and me to school and sports, winning wrestling matches, three long days of driving to Yellowstone, and teaching me to drive. It caused pain. Eightyear old me thought it would be a brilliant idea to get my finger caught in the automatic door. I thought I would never see my index finger again. But there was also joy as we set the white, foldable Petsmart box in the spacious trunk to bring home. Twice with a sky blue parakeet. Once with a tortoise. Ingrained in the foldable seats, the memories of our family odyssey from home to Ikea. Like in the poem, we follow our hero, Odyssey (Odysseus), home carrying DIY bed frames, mattresses, chairs, couches, and picture frames. The journey home was uncomfortable, as the large boxes stole the seats. But she stole the show. Her headlight held on for dear life with gray tape(to match), then penguin colored tape, then tie dye - remnants of a duct tape wallet phase and a victorious fight against a compact car. She sat loyal and boastful as a revolving door of others- Volkswagen Jetta, Nissan Leaf, a newer, redder Jetta- came and left, never living up to the pure beast of a family van that was the glorious Odyssey. She was humble, though. The heroic van never ceased to provide and impress as I sped down the highway, six over the limit. This van is the one constant in my life. She’s seen the best- when I took blue at my first horse show, the ugly bickering during long road trips, and the gossip when my mom mocks my new stepmom. The family van has driven and guided us through all our journeys, this one coming to a standstill. We’ve completed our odyssey.
Eliana twentyMora
Birth ControlWhen taking Osmero some of these symptoms may arise. This drug may cause nausea, vomiting, vertigo, and headaches. You may also experience shortness of breath during exercise, high blood pressure in the sun, and low blood pressure when it rains. If you experience low blood pressure when it’s not raining, contact your doctor. While on Osmero, do not eat foods such as lettuce or mac and cheese, and, at all costs, avoid eating anything the color green -all other foods should be okay. If you experience any symptoms such as loss of vision, loss of hearing, or numbness in your feet please call us at (505-4659978) so we may add whatever food you ate onto our “Do Not Eat” list. Your contribution is appreciated.Having strange bowel movements is normal while taking Osmero; do not be afraid if your excrement is purple; however, if your excrement shows any hint of being blue, contact your doctor and say goodbye to your family. Morning pains are normal; the man standing in the corner of your room is not real, that’s Jimmy, the shared hallucination among Osmero users. Do not operate any type of car while taking Osmero, unless it is a 2010 Honda Insight. Otherwise, I would recommend saving up for a horse, or maybe a rideable cow. If you suddenly feel the urge to go skydiving, call your doctor. We will send an ambulance and a straight jacket. Osmero will only cause vertigo in people who live in Texas. If you start randomly and involuntarily doing the renegade, there is no help for you. Osmero may cause sensitivity to light and sound; it is best to wander into the woods and live in a cave if these symptoms arise. Osmero will also cause visions of Dr. Phil to appear outside your window; if these visions appear inside your home, open up a coffee shop.
The Osmero pill is the shape and size of the golf ball; keep in mind that Osmero is not a golfball. Do not use Osmero as a golf ball. If you do use Osmero as a golf ball, it will contaminate the local water supply. One of Osmero’s more serious side effects includes a strong urge to sell your organs on the black market. If this occurs, please only sell one kidney, everything else is important. Your uterus may also randomly disappear; it will come back. If you stop taking Osmero while your uterus is gone you may never get it back. If you’re now able to see and talk to ghosts, move to New Zealand and become a priest.
Some users of Osmero will suddenly be able to speak fluent Latin. If this happens to you, this does not mean summoning a demon is okay. Do not summon a demon. 67% of users experience swollen facial features; we have not yet found a cure. Osmero is also vegan and gluten-free.
twenty-three -June Barnett twenty-two
twenty-four
Prince Florian: Pardon?
Prince Florian: Baby, you know I love you and only you.
(This product may contain one or more of the following: gluten, red meat, spider legs, eggs, methamphetamines, lemonade, sulfur, uranium, and dibutyl phthalate) Do not be concerned if you are unable to move your left leg in the mornings; you will regain feeling exactly after 10:30 am. If you do not regain feeling at the stated time, you may want to go on a yoga retreat. When taking Osmero, the most important thing to remember is never double dose. Most of these symptoms may be slept off. If you stop taking Osmero and any of these symptoms continue, please go to the ER. Jimmy does not count, he will stay even after you stop taking Osmero. While taking Osmero you still have a 50% chance of getting pregnant. Osmero is not responsible for any death while taking our -Campbellmedication.Brown
Snow White: That’s also the fifth time you’ve said that.
Happy Ever PrinceAfter…Florian
has a habit of kissing pretty girls who seem to be asleep. Snow White is his second wife–the first one ran away after he kept kissing other girls. And now,
Prince Florian: I promise it won’t happen again.
Snow White: This is the fifth time, dude.
Snow White: I really could’ve just stayed with the dwarves. They were so nice and so cute and adorable. But no! I just had to become enamored with a prince who has a habit of kissing people who are unconscious. Do you know how many mines the dwarves had? Sure they lived in a small cottage, but that’s because the dwarves prefer a minimalist
Snow White and Prince Florian’s marriage is becoming unstable. Especially after Snow White reveals the truth.
Snow White: I’m not here for you. I’m here because your maid is hot. Like smokingtwenty-fivehot.
-Claire Rosenberger
Snow White: …. I feel like we have a slight misunderstanding here.
Princelifestyle.Florian: Jesus Christ. Stop bringing that up. If you were so happy before meeting me, then why don’t you go live with the dwarves again? What’s keeping you here? It’s because you love me, even though you hate to admit it. So stop complaining.
Haiku save the turtles! *takes sip* from a plastic straw -Mason Burdettflat-FrancisbusybredmouseoncrossroadsZhoua small bite of -LaelimpineapplecontroversypizzaJunga new surpriseslockan old key divorce papers -Brody Rountree twenty-seven Prince Florian: …. Sorry what? Snow White: You really didn’t know I was gay? Dude. I literally call you “bro” and “dude” all the time. And I literally spend my time with the maids. What did you think? Prince Florian: Oh…. -Laelim Jung -Francis Zhou twenty-six
“Nah, nah, nah, but what I would do, is get a huge, kick-ass tombstone right, and be like maybe be like a statue of me and my dog or something, like a big one of like marble or something, and every year on my birthday, for like 100 years, I’d just have it launch a bunch of fireworks into the air at midnight, reminding them who I was. Just so no one can forget about me, you know?”
The other two nod in agreement at the proposition, mulling over its merits and defects.
“Yea, yea, you could have it send out as many fireworks as years you would’ve been alive for or “Dude,something.”it’dbesending out like 170 fireworks.”
After a moment of reflection, another member clears his throat:
“… you’re lame as-”
“Yea no like some Project-X type rager at my giant mansion. Just send an invite to every single person I know and have bottomless champagne. Nah, like something out of The Great Gatsby, dude, just have everybody goin’ nuts all night. I mean I’d be dead; like, I don’t care if they wreck the place, I just want people to have a good time. I wouldn’t want my funeral to be all sad n’ somber n’ all that, I’d want it to be happy. I don’t want anyone to grieve over me. I just - would want the celebration of my life to bring people happiness. You know?”
The three deepen into their respective seats, each contemplating the newly proposed “Isituation:meanI’d probably just throw a massive party.” twenty-eight“Seriously?”
“I’m a billionaire; I can pay for that s**t.” “Bruh, the town’s gonna hate you.” twenty-nine Just Three Dudes In a cacophony of car doors, white sneakers and hooded jackets, the three of them pile into the Subaru; a jangle and a ding brings the heat to life and they all breathe a sigh of relief. The night is colder than they’d expected; “Holy s**t, dude, it’s brick,” “I can’t feel my toes,” “Bro, same.” They all chuckle in agreement and a moment of quiet descends upon the group, each of them collecting their thoughts as they allow the heat of the car to seep through their clothes, past their skin, and into their marrow. A comfort descends: “Yo, okay, I was thinking about this earlier: so you’re a billionaire, right. Like, unlimited money, unlimited resources, shaved head, the whole deal; and so you’ve lived your long, miserable billionaire life, and you die: what’re you doing for your funeral?” “Damn, that’s a good one.” “Wait and so you can do, like, whatever you want?” “Yea, yea; no restrictions.”
“I don’t know, I think I’d just have, like a regular funeral for the most part. Like I’d make it nice and everything, have my loved ones there n everything but I don’t think I’d do anything super crazy for the actual celebration; I still want people to mourn for me and everything. Let them process their grief.”
“I think I’d have them string me up in a hot air balloon, and just pay some dude like 5 million to fly me around all over New York or something. Just stretch me out by arms and legs and have me facing down like towards the city, and over the weeks I’d just slowly start rot and vultures and bugs would descend in hoards and just start eating and tearing me apart. Yea, and my intestines would be hanging out and everything, and little bits of viscera would just rain down randomly on people and it just be like this huge smelly disgusting symbol of-of death, you know? Cause I feel like there are so many misconceptions and misrepresentations of what death actually is, and doing something like that would be so powerful; like death isn’t happy or sad or this scary magical thing, like this is death: some strange yet very real, tangible disgusting transition that’s inevitably a part of life. I feel like we’re all just so far removed from it that, I don’t know - it would take some people a rotting body floating over city to understand that I guess.”
The hot air of the car roars into the tensioned silence.
“What“Dude…”the hell is wrong with you?” thirty
-Quinn Lander -Abby Lin thirty-one “Yea, but they sure as hell won’t forget me.”
The three of them break into laughter, prodding the member about details and potential obstacles of the proposition as the heat from their discussion condenses on the windows, growing so thick that the world beyond the glass appears merely as an undesirable blur.
The three laugh at the shared fantasy and work out the minutiae of their own individual conception, like the look on someone’s face after the 170th firework exploded in an infuriating, hilarious display of color, or the way the giant white-marble statue of their friend would stand there so proudly as hundreds of fireworks erupted from behind the figure. Each of them relishes his own image as the laughter fades into sparse giggles. Four“Honestly.”eyesshift
in their sockets, pulling their heads towards the backseat expectantly.
-Joumana Abdelhy thirty-three
Where I’m From I am from generations of names my grandfathers are Herminia Chavez and Olivia Holaday who married Wilfred Gabriel Sanchez and Arthur Lynn Cain from New Mexico farming and Missouri migration to colorful Colorado I am from Pinus ponderosa and Juniperus communis whose bark and needles I would roll between my fingers and whose shade we would huddle under on those hikes with mom and dad that my memory made twice as long I am from summer dusks when we would look twice to cross the street to the neighborhood park where the gnats would nibble our faces until the frisbee’s color faded into the dark and we headed back to the lit-up porch I am from winter dawns when the sunlight would creep up only after we were in the car on the way to school, reaching all the way into the backseat warming up my face until my eyes didn’t have to squint anymore I’m from one neighborhood and I am also from the land my ancestors cultivated, spoiled, and loved. I am from Maese, DuPree, Chavez, Cain, Holaday, Sanchez, from countless people whom I will never know and countless places I can still discover -Mia thirty-twoSanchez
TheseHaiku haiku have been selected be published in the Summer 2022 edition of Modern Haiku. dew on a spider’s web first breath of a calf - Catherine Fisher boiling dumplings on the lunar new year the stories we forgot - Letian Zhang all my watches out of sync crescent moon - Ben Prantl thirty-five -L Ma thirty-four
Incoming Call: Cyrus Lewis The fluorescent green of the answer button was blinding. I fought back the scream building in my esophagus and answered the phone. “Hello, Mason. This is Don. I’m Cyrus’ dad.” In the following four minutes, I aged backwards. Two hundred and forty seconds transformed an eighteen year-old “adult”, into an inconsolable child. There I was. Sitting in the parking lot. Getting off the phone. Alone. The river that began flowing from my eyes became a sea of tears. I will never forget that day. I will always remember where I was. -Mason Burdett -Ruby Riecken thirty-six
That Girl That girl in your class, The one with good grades, Who doesn’t have to even try, It seems she has it all. That girl in your class, The one who seems to have great friends, Who smiles all the time, It seems she has it all. That girl in your class, The one who always checks up on you, Who says you can always count on her, It seems she has it all. That girl in your class, The one who hides her body, Who doesn’t want you to see the lines, It seems she has it all. That girl in your class, The one who likes to be alone Who really struggles, Who cries herself to sleep every night, It seems she has it all. That girl in your class, The one with good grades, Who doesn’t have to even try, It seems she has it all. -Jessie Prantl thirty-seven
I am diamonds when others wanted coal, The toughest material around but still glittering and crystal clear.
The Chemistry of Gentleness
I am softness in a hard world.
thirty-nine
I am a matrix of molecules, Building my own world from scratch And still moving forward even in the cold.
I am the girl with entropic emotions And saturated tears And not enough surface tension to hold it all back. I’ve got alkali explosiveness And noble stability And all the layers in between. Matter cannot be destroyed, and neither can I. No amount of stress Or combustion Or force Or radiation Or Willpressureeverharden my soft nucleic core. -Claire Brown-Mia
I am boiling water, changing and shifting against the atmospheric pressure, I am the steam rising and drifting to the heavens.
Sanchez thirty-eight
-Francis Zhouforty-one throughriverHaikuflowingthegapbloodmoon-ElianaMora the alarm clock COVID moon howls evergreens wolf moon turn brown -Jacob Davis -Cole Isaacson new -Conneraoncehome…againfreshmanRichardson forty
Still breathing heavily, but less so, Marcus stood from the wall and stared at the safe in front of him. The metallic grits in the paint of the black metal box twinkled and danced under his headlamp, all swimming in coordination like a school of herring. He wasn’t sure if the visual was a symptom of his exhaustion or the speed he’d taken earlier (probably a combination of the two), but he stared and admired the illusion. It became clear to Marcus that the impenetrable box held all the money he could ever need, and, looking through the door, he could see a westward road open before him; he could imagine himself in the driver’s seat of a new truck with the windows down, wearing new clothes and shoes, with Sarah sitting across from him. In his dream he could see her hair clean and brushed, her skin washed, her teeth spotless and white, but, most noticeably, she was smiling - really smiling. Not smiling because she was high or from some silly joke, but smiling because she was happy, finally, actually happy, and they were together. If he could just get this damned safe out the wall…
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forty-two
Where I Was I was in the school cafeteria of all places. My elementary school had a pop-up band concert that night, so they pulled out the fold-up chairs that squeak with every adjustment. It was nearing Christmas, so all of the performers sported either a red and white coned hat or reindeer antlers with multicolored bells that jingled as you moved. I believe I was in the third row on the left side. I had on a Santa hat that I had to beg my Papa for a trip to the Arc to receive.
Like Father, Like Son (excerpt)
“If your hand is bigger than your face then you’re a r*tard,” Of course, I fell for it, but that wasn’t the reason I cried later that night. My whole family wanted to be there to support me most of them were besides my Grammie who refused to leave my dad’s hospital bed, so we played Hard Rock Blues and after my favorite song, which I cannot remember the name of, the principal, who was only kind to me because she lived on the same street, approached the third row on the left side. forty-three
Matthew Simplemann was on my left and Austin Cash on the right. On my hip was my alto saxophone with a metallic red bow stuck to the bell. Austin wouldn’t stop teasing me:
“Your family says it is time to go.” The joy of the Christmas concert left my mind as I knew something terrible had happened. Without trying to cause a scene, I stood up and hurried to pack up my instrument. Everything seemed to take too long. Each step, each mile, and each bathroom break to the -Carolinehospital.Ellis -Jackie Adams forty-four Faculty DaveSponsorReynolds, English Department Chair Editors Claire Brown Elisa AthenaeaQuinnLiuLanderStaffMayaMagee,Fiona Monohan, Analí Muciño, Francis Zhou, Anabelle Brown, Ari Child, and Linda Pan. Printed by Colt Print Services Athenaea is a publication of Fountain Valley School of Colorado. forty-five Acknowledgements
