dear reader, i’m fine.

i don’t wish to die on bad days
i wish to die at the end of the best ones
on days where the coffee is warm
and the weather is nice
where the ice in my cup doesn’t melt
and my shoes fit right
i wish to die after those days
on days where i get great news
or fulfill a goal
where i always get the green light
and my mother calls
i wish at the end of those days
when i curl up
that i don’t wake up
because dying happy and young
with all the promise of a better tomorrow
is a privilege
to die after a great day
leaves no room for me to find a reason
to do the job myself
after a bad one.

The Vulture with a Bonnet: A Sonnet

That freckled-nosed doe, English, why
she moves like waves and sings like birds
and yet her tone is harsh and dry
towards those who know not yet her words.
So blunt, so fair, so clean, so rough.
She wears the jewels of ancient lore
they stain her skin with seasick cuffs
a tarnished emblem waning sore.
Her Roman rings, and French beret
with German bracelets, Grecian frock:
a patina so slowly met
her worth deflated taken sock.
Your huddled masses yearning, come!
Her arms a softer place to land
embraced so firm the limbs turn numb
her scalding torch held firm in hand.
what lovely company to keep
who marks your words before you speak.

Olivia Elier

Biography: Olivia is a transfer student from Southern Califonia majoring in English with a double degree in Education. She grew up in the suburbs of Orange County and moved to the Pacific Northwest in fall of 2021, where she intends to stay until the rain melts her. Olivia is an educator, currently student teaching english language arts at a local middle school. Poetry and prose are her outlets for the things she can’t find places for. She enjoys vanilla cream in her coffee, rewatching the twilight saga, and the nicknames her friends give her.

Artist Statement: I have a book in my desk where I write everything I’m grateful for. It’s like a journal of every compliment I have ever been given and every good thing I have seen a person do. I like to think I’m keeping my precious things in a precious place. My poetry is more like an antique armoire full of the things you’d rather not leave out in the open. The stuff in your therapist’s notes, right? I try not to be one of those poets who believes they are god, no offense to my colleagues. Aren’t we all just 20-somethings in their notes apps at 3am trying to feel important? We are, don’t worry.

Social Media: @olivia.elier

Carly Thorkildson

Biography: Hi! My name is Carly and I’m a fourth year student studying chemical engineering. In my major, I rarely interact with the arts or anything besides endless math, chemistry, and physics equations, so slowly getting back into photography and collaging has been a welcome process for me.

Artist Statement: I mostly do collage work with old magazines I can find, and since I work on campus, that mostly ends up being older Prism magazines, Barometer newspapers, or Beaver Digest’s. I’ve always appreciated taking something that was made for one purpose, and being able to draw new meaning from it. Additionally, I’ve always loved photography and focusing on the details that I feel like may otherwise be overlooked. Several times a day I’ve stop just to look at how a corner of a building looks in contrast to the sky just because it stands out to me. I believe that finding the devil in the details whether it be photography or collaging has always been enjoyable and a bit of an unsolvable mystery for myself.