All posts tagged: somi jun

Pilot Episode: My So-Called Life

Words and photos by Somi Jun. ARE YOU FASTING TODAY? follow the bell curve of the stomach, the parched strokes at the base of the esophagus. trace up the jawline, loop around the ear, pull thumb over a gummy train of facial hair. i feel i have been fasting for you, sunrise to sundown, and finally, the line has broken. Part 1: PILOT EPISODE, MSCL Flaccid smoke, erect. Joker gloss melts off sweaty reject’s face as feet stay feet away from his deadass beat. Beat. 106 degrees echo off the 8 o’clock concrete, corpse waves from the afternoon, my stomach and veins scooped hollow, pulse throbs mellow to the Beat, No point to this deadass heat. Be glad for the French Braided coronation around cud-chewing lips, because Burger King does serve vegetarian fare, 3.49 and charged to Straight Outta Compton. Heat full of shoes and strangers inside the house. Robert DeNiro is the only purity in all this Drivel and mellow yellow youth, my flaccid night. The theme song of my so-called life. Part 2: STANDING ON MY OWN TWO FEET my …

small town melodies / poems by joseph felkers

  WILLIAM TELL I remember playing the william tell overture and the farmer who forecasted the weather and elections, and sometimes I think about it all and my place in it when often I realize it couldn’t’ve ever happened. Root beers and bug spray melting into 401k’s I remember sitting at the stoplight that was always red and realizing that everything breaks   TWENTY FIVE OVER FIFTY FIVE august eleventh ninety four degrees small town, big dreams its dark outside besides occasional lightning cracks its only heat lightning darling turn off the radio twenty five over fifty five crickets provide a soundtrack harmonious rubber to rubble racing through a small town at eleven twenty six I glance a second and I know you’re beautiful but I cry because the only feeling you know in this god forsaken town is the bruises that outline your father’s love for you fags are only cigarettes remember that, you’re much more than a cigarette ABOUT THE AUTHOR Joseph Felkers is a high school sophomore and poet from West Michigan. Self …

everything is beautiful / words and photography

Words by Perah Ralin. Portrait of Perah Ralin by Somi Jun. i crave you and the comfort you bring fingers reaching to brush back a bit of hair the sigh of each strand as you bless them with your touch lights overhead flicker as i wait for you fingers reaching to delve deep into my chest wrapping ribs sternum lungs away from flesh and mouth opens empty and a little bit of breath escapes into the air and dissipates blistering bands of burn i want you to be here watch as it curls smoke in the air into my lungs your lungs and for a moment we are one cough it up, particle by particle i take the words from your tongue as they fall from your teeth the scent calls and drifts back settling in the film and filling in the cracks tell me how you feel on a one two three scale one to see two to hear three to be with me but back and forth we dance one two two and …

in this sky / photography + poetry

Photography by Elizabeth Masterman. Poetry by Somi Jun. teen spirit and winged golems screaming moloch way up high, we are no angels, but in this sky our sons and daughters die There is A grand scheme to your life, Mapped in the family around you and The gravity you hold as close To your heart as ad hominem solvent. Chant words, tipped: You are The earth, sun, universe, and Everything, You will not die Before your time.

affection // an itch

Poetry by Margaret Zhang, Grade 10 Castilleja School. Photography by Somi Jun. Overcooked Affection We’re sitting in the choral room, mouths in O’s and lips stained rosy, when I find myself misplaced among quarter notes and bar lines I don’t recognize, and so I fasten together my lips like closure and ask, Where did we start? You gesture to a note the same shape as your unguarded lips, but the minute you pull away, I forget which is which. And if my flowering vessels knew what it meant to slumber, I would ask you these questions until my lungs gave out, until my windpipe ached with cavities and soot. Some days, your perspiration smells of rain and the lime-smeared bloom beneath your cardboard skin, and as we trod up and down the hummocks of this overcooked town, weave left and right through powdery houses we used to know, I want to ask you, Where did we start? When we grow wrinkled, I’ll unlatch my wrists from the shackles of your squeaking ribcage, let myself become my own. …

You Asked Me What Was the Hardest to Say

By Rowyn Cotter, 19, attending Minneapolis Community and Technical College. Looking to transfer elsewhere at the end of the year and I am extremely passionate about feminism and writing. You Asked Me What Was the Hardest to Say Words by Rowyn Cotter, collage by Somi Jun. Transcript:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1oMvyOd5h3BiA5g5zUQY7AotAe3mFEQs2yb_Cqjs_scM/edit?usp=sharing