IN THIS ISSUE:



Rachel Adams >>

Roshelle Amundson >>

Kenny Bellew >>

Cat Campbell >>

Alicia Catt >>

Raymond Cott-Meissel >>

Ben Findlay >>

Gail Gates >>

Brent Giesen >>

Kristine Hayes >>

Blaine Huberty >>

Peter Laine >>

Amy Mattila >>

Suzanne Nielsen >>

Dawn Nissen >>

Norah O'Shaughnessy >>

Rebekah Pahr >>

Sally Reynolds >>

Donna Ronning >>

Kah Shepard >>

Kelly Taylor >>

Jonah Volheim >>

William Wells >>

Jake Wendlandt >>

S. A. Victory >>

Kate Young >>

Alice Lundy Blum >>

Natallia Meleshkevich >>

Rachel "Peanut" Adams




Going Native

I was getting ravaged in Savage
by some guy named “Deals With a Mighty Fist.”
There was nothing tribal about that Mystic hotel. 
Closed my eyes for a minute,
remembering the crush I had on
Kokuum, that stud from Pocahontas. 
He calls me Pocahotass,
there is nothing native about this skin.
I am many things
but no one will ever call me more than
vanilla.
This is how I claim diversity.
Culture to culture,
place to place,
skin to skin,
always another swirl to add to my repertoire.
He says I'm okay.
I say he's a stupid fuck,
he says he's a good one. 
...what an ass.
I roll my eyes,
just wondering what happened to that little kid
who used to want to be somebody,
not spend her time mixing flavors.


Tides


North Of Where The Waters End

Polished to a rippling glass
reflecting aching hearts and lonely dreams.
The happy smiles of counterparts
who dance their way down its glossy stretch
find themselves saddened 
as the tide closes its grip on the chance
to warm yourself in the sun-
but glad to know your feet grace this sacred soil
today.
The wind thrashes up, bringing color to your pallid face
and warmth to your soul even in the cold months.
The waters are empty now,
mere shadows linger in the waves
visited only by those who cannot resist its frothing call,
or those curious at the anomaly that day in and out
rises and falls.
Drawing us in and shoving us away as abruptly as we came.
Gulls lull on the rocks, smashing their way through broken shells,
long forgotten stones polished smooth by time,
and us.
Their mournful songs join in the chorus
beckoning back the heat that has floated away on the dawn,
echoing the laughter of tiny children who bundle up
to tumble in the sand 
one more time.
Blue sky mirrored on blue earth,
sinking to the marrow of your desire
and bringing out the familiar ache,
stretching on and on, 
waving goodbye and hello forevermore.


  
Been There



Sunset Over Parliament


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Rachel "Peanut" Adams is a freshman at Metropolitan State. Born and raised in Minnesota, she has always had a great respect for poetry and photography to capture the world and its people. It has only been since deciding to head in the direction of film production and screenwriting that she has begun to share her work in those mediums. She spends her time riding her horse, camera in hand and seeing where the world takes her, and drawing inspiration from the sights and people in her life.