Photo by Aidan Romick

Not Mad

I Am Frightened

By Jackson Howard

I woke up this morning, painfully hung-over from three too many Irish whiskeys and four hours of sleep, and as I forced my body out of bed, I carefully, methodically and despondently — like when you remove a splinter from your foot and examine it pinched between the tweezers, wondering how something so small could cause such pain — questioned the very nature of my reality. I wish I had an answer for the questions echoing in our heads but I don’t. I truly don’t. Instead I shuffled through the Brooklyn rain, into a train full of grey faces and puffy eyes and broken pride and climbed the stairs with legs like lead into Manhattan, where some small part of me expected it to be sunny, but of course it was still raining, because it is Wednesday November 9, 2016, and Donald Trump is going to be our 45th president.

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PoetryWriting

Selections from 'American Dreams'

by Mark Spero

18. I have invented an app that combines LinkedIn and Tinder: love is networking. I am presenting the newest update and the whole crowd is fucking, orgasming, and yelling “We should get coffee and talk about some sort of collaborative project.” 63. I wake up in a stranger’s bed and we have sex one more time, for the smell of it. I catch an Uber home and the driver asks about my night. I try to smile in that knowing way, but I don’t know, so I just cry.

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Culture, Perspective

Across the Bay: Navigating Post-Grad Gentrification

by Alastair Boone, Photo by

As a result, West Oakland occupies a patchy transition. Many of the houses we found on Craigslist are large and lined with flowers (“the gardener costs $200 a month unless you’re willing to care for the roses yourself”). But when compared to their surroundings, these homes look painfully new — aggressive strongholds of the future amongst the long surviving past. None come without a tall metal fence, and as we pull up outside for showings, neighbors sitting on their porches stare. Four white women in a lime green Camry. Can you blame them? In school, we talked about food deserts and white flight and the harmful effects of gentrification on low-income East Bay residents. We did not talk about what to do or how to behave when you find that you may be part of the problem.

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