The Artist Bellows: Lincoln HS Edition

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The Artist BellowsWITS Digital Chapbook

2013-2014

Lincoln High School Edition

The Artist BellowsLincoln High School Edition

The Artist Bellows2013-2014 Online Chapbook

Copyright 2013 Literary Arts, Inc. All Rights Reserved. This book may not be duplicated in any way—me-chanical, photographic, electronic, or by means yet to be devised—without the written permission of the pub-lisher, except in the case of a brief excerpt or quotations for the purpose of review.

Literary arts staffAndrew ProctorJenny ChuLydah DeBinSusan DenningMegan GexJennifer GurneyPaige O’RourkeMary RechnerMel Wells

Wits internsJamie CarrEric JenningsWill Aime

Board of directorsJessica Mozeico, ChairBetsy AmsterMike BarrAlice Cuprill-ComasRebecca DeCesaroAmy DonohueTheo Downes-Le GuinMarie EckertRobert GeddesPamela Smith HillAmy Carlsen KohnstammAmy ProsenjakJohn Raymond

James ReinhartBarry SandersJacqueline WillinghamThomas WoodSusheela Jayapal, Ex OfficioJohn Meadows, Ex OfficioAndrew Proctor, Ex Officio

strunk & White societyAn honorary society of distinguished advisorsGwyneth BoothBart EberweinBrian GardDiana GerdingMolly GlossCarrie HoopsUrsula K. Le GuinBarry LopezJulie ManciniBrenda MeltebekeDiane PontiMichael PowellHalle SadleSteven TaylorSteve Wynne

chapBook staffEditors: Mel Wells and Will AimeDesigner: Will Aime

Writers in the Schools is a program of Literary Arts, a community-based nonprofit literary organization whose mission is to support writers, engage readers, and inspire the next gener-ation with great literature. For more information, please contact:

Literary Arts925 SW Washington St.Portland, OR 97205503.227.2583www.literary-arts.org

Contents

Writers in the Schools viSupport viiIntroduction xi

Random Renga 1 Collaboration

Burnside 4 Alex McVey

Rebel 5 Adeline Lefevre

Knowing 6 Kiley Yuthas

Fire Crackers 7 Hengyu Cui

Faces in the Walls 8 Georgia Gustavson

My Favorite Place in the World 9 Jocelyn Garcia

The Mysterious Ship at Sea 10 Molly Mastrorilli

No More Quarters for the Arcade 11 Phoebe Nguyen

Cloud Acrostic 13 Bailey Smith

About Myself 14 Angeles Abril

Unexplored Territory 15 Isabel Nattagh

Love and War 16 Preeta Hopwood

Companion 17 Katherine Cobb

Confession 18 Ruhika Prasad

Regret 19 Allison Marcott

A Reluctant Bride’s Reflection 20 Emma Siddall

Our Complex Being 21 Natalie George

Should Have Been Aborted 22 Lauren Wilson

Caged 23 Lauren Knox

Vicious Cycle 24 Daniel Pinter

Whirlpool 25 Alex Laub

That Place 26 Magnolia Garcia

The Pyramid of Nature-- A Letter to You 27 Lia Kashuba

The Eyes 28 Angelo Sampson

Paper Towns 29 Grace Sullivan

The Old Best Friend 30 Charles Liu

Mirror 32 Quinn Catkins

Reflection 33 Iyla Ingalls

The Nature of Things 34 Kyle Corbett

Untitled 35 Van Engstrom

Stars 36 Clemen Dang

The Universe and Myself 37 Kate Richardson

Space Race 38 Brian Young

Letter for my Grandfather 39 Lorna Perez

Writers in the Schools 40

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Writers in the Schools

Writers-in-residenceCarl Adamshick, Lorraine Bahr, Alex Behr, Carmen T. Bernier-Grand, Serena Crawford, Lisa Eisenberg, Casey Fuller, James Gendron, Jonathan Hill, John Isaacson, Apricot Anderson Irving, Ramiza Koya, Kathleen Lane, Timothy S. Lane, Amy Minato, Lee Montgomery, Mark Pomeroy, Melissa Reeser Poulin, Carter Sickels, Desmond Spann, Cindy Williams Gutiérrez, Matt Zrebski

Visiting authorsSalman Rushdie, MothSHOP, Lawrence Wright, Julia Alvarez

participating teachersAmy Ambrosio, Ilsa Bruer, Stephanie D’Cruz, Mykhiel Deych, Daniel Fredgant, Katie Grone, Vanessa Hughes, Cindy Irby, Glen Jacobs, Tom Kane, Stephen Lambert, Dylan Leeman, Eric Levine, Rodney Maack, Karen Margolis, Jennifer Newton, Evan Price, Steve Naganuma, Mary Rodeback, Linda Singingbird-Grant, Kris Spurlock, Norman Stremming, Amy Taramasso, Catherine Theriault, Dana Vinger, Ellen Whatmore, Elisa Wong, Tracey Wyatt, James Zartler

participating principaLsPetra Callin, Carol Campbell, Peyton Chapman, Brian Chatard, Paul Cook, Shay James, Charlene Williams, Curtis Wilson

district LiasonMelissa Goff

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Support

The following individuals, buisnesses and foundations made Writers in the Schools a success in 2013-2014:

$1000+ AHA! Alling Henning Associates, IncAutzen FoundationBank of AmericaMike R. BarrThe Bloomfield Family Foundation-BluehourThe Boeing CompanyBoora Architects

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Broadway BooksThe Collins FoundationMultnomah County Cultural Coali-tionAnn & Ron EmmersonEt Fille WinesFirst Tech Federal Credit UnionBob GeddesPhilip S. Harper FoundationIrwin FoundationSusheela JayapalJuan Young TrustKinder Morgan FoundationKnowledge UniverseAmy Carlsen Kohnstamm & Kevin KohnstammJessica MozeicoThe Nara FundNW NaturalJan & Steve OlivaPGE FoundationAmy Prosenjak & Steven GuyRobert D. and Marcia H. Randall Charitable TrustOregon Arts CommissionHarold & Arlene Schnitzer CARE FoundationBob SpeltzThe StandardSterling BankHerbert A. Templeton FoundationU.S. Bancorp FoundationDan Wieden & Priscilla Bernard WiedenWillamette WeekTom & Marcia Wood $250+ Carole AlexanderSeth AlleyLisa BakerLina Beth BarberRobert Bentley

Gwyneth Gamble BoothTom Booth & Megan HoldenPaul & Shelly BuchananSteve & Peg BusickJan ChristensenRick Comandich & Maya MuirBetsy Cramer & Greg KubicekMarian & Neale CreamerMichael E. DavaltJodi Delahunt Hubbell & Todd Hub-bellPaul & Francesca DudenMyron D. FileneDiana GerdingPat & Kelley HarringtonSusan Hathaway-Marxer & Larry MarxerTom & Betsy HenningJane JacobsenPhillip M. MargolinPete McDowellPete McDowellJohn MeadowsSusan MersereauLora & Jim MeyerDeidra MinerSteven C. NeighornNancy PhillipsNancy & Mike PhillipsDiane Ponti & Ward GreeneRobin Roberts & John L BackesLori SingerShirley SkidmoreKaarin & Van SmithDonald & Roslyn SutherlandDan & Lisa TrislerKristi Wallace Knight & Eric WallaceCandace Young 100+ Sam AdamsDonald AndersenSally & John Anderson

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Bill Bagnall & Clayton LloydTom & Molly BartlettKim & Rosie BatchellerKathleen & Scott BauskaNaomi & John BishopMary Bodie & Tom BeaverJulie K. BoltSharon BrennerValerie & Eric BressmanEvie BrimKaryle ButcherEllyn ByeBrent & Barbara ChalmersJanet R. & Edgar E. ClarkLiana ColomboMary Louise CookDavid & Denise CoreyBecky Denham, M.D.Susan & Joseph DenmanNathan & Eva DouthitJustin Dune & Carol SandersPenny & Ken DurantTina Edlund & Sydney Edlund-Jer-mainSteven BurnsKaren EllmersMargaret B. EvensonPamela & Tim FleischmannCheryl Hollatz-Wisely & Kate GrayKathy ImmermanBrita Johnson & Allen PooleKaren & Dennis JohnsonDianne & Alan JohnsonLaura Jones & David LivermoreMorley & Jim KnollRobert & Susan LeebPriscilla Wold LongfieldKathryn Madison & Jeffrey WertzDeborah Mandell & Roy PulversJennifer W. MarkRobert MathesonBrad & Julie McMurchieAnne Mendel & Mark HenryDr. Elizabeth & Dr. Brock Metcalf

Ruth & Arnold MetzRonald Mitchell & Amy ReissMarjory MorfordDouglas & Candace MorganMona MozeicoJoanne NehlerEmma OliverIrja OravNancy OrrKaren & Marvin PembertonDavid PollockNancy PonziAndrew & Veronica ProctorBonnie & Peter ReaganMary Rechner & Barry SimsRuth RothRobert ScanlanRosalie SchenckManya ShapiroMarjorie M. SmithCarole SmithPatricia & Marvin StraughanCatherine Theriault & Daniel WestonCarla Van HoomissenStephanie VolkmanJoella WerlinClif & Patty WhiteDara WilkGrito PressJacqueline WillinghamDeborah WoodMorton & Audrey Zalutsky And many more generous donors

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Introduction

Dear Reader,

Grit has become a widely acknowledged indicator for student success, and no wonder. People who commit to a goal and work hard over time often realize their dreams. At Writers in the Schools (WITS), the local professional writers we hire embody perseverance while teaching public high students to write, revise, edit, publish, and perform their own creative writing.

WITS writers are exemplars, showing students how practicing a craft, along with being creative, curious, persistent, and resilient, can lead to success that may not easy or quick, but is lasting, satisfying, and sustaining.

During the 2013-2014 school year 1,074 public high school students participated in semester-long residencies uniquely designed to support, deepen, and extend existing curriculum. WITS programming reinforces the real world importance of reading and writing in all professions and is designed to meet state and national standards for the arts and language arts.

Opportunity is another important indicator for student success, and WITS is committed to providing inspiring, world-expanding literary experiences for youth throughout Multnomah County. Last year 2,534 students participated in projects such as Students to the Schnitz, Verselandia! and our College Essay Mentoring Project. To learn more about these projects, go to:www.literary-arts.org/what-we-do/wits-home/.

We hope you enjoy reading The Artist Bellows, our newest online chapbooks of student work at http://issuu.com/literary-arts/stacks. For their help in making these books, we’d like to thank our WITS interns Will Aime, a student at Lewis & Clark College, and Reed College graduate, Rebekah Volinsky. Our online chapbook is designed by Will Aime; thank you!

A vast cadre of writers, teachers, librarians, principals, interns, volunteers, and community supporters makes our work with youth successful. If you would like to contribute to our efforts, please visit www.literary-arts.org/donate.

Mary Rechner Mel WellsWriters in the Schools Program Director Anthology Editor & Program Coordinator

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Random RengaCollaboration

Lincoln High School

WITS Writer: Cindy Williams Gutierrez

Winter is passingWhite bones pose as bamboo stemsFrost clings to tree bark

A winking of wind in grayThe glare of eternity

Snow wilts the once redSharp wind blows through the bambooThe lake’s thin ice sheet

Snaps and cracks disturb the peaceThe lake stretches awake

Oars row against windThe current holds the men backfrom lives left below

The parallel universesupports the fisherman’s boat

Gold light turns to pinkin the light crisp mountain airRed blossoms flourish

A line of birds cuts the skySome ride the liquid mirror

Sprinkle us with joyBright pollen crowns our nosesHungrily inhale

The sky rains fluted petalson the heads of those below

Corona of lightYoung skies dazzle the dayStep into the sun

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There are petals in the airThis blue haze swallows the world

Fun comes in seasonsSummertime records our growthThe cicadas hum

Fireflies light up our nightThis fleeting summer will pass

The mountains reach upwith giant clasping clawed handsTowers to heaven

Cutting deeper and deeperrivers are what define us

Fading dark to lightthe shadows come to life nowwrapped in autumn hues

Seasons changing quicklyBlue sky, red leaves, clear mind

The soft mist whispersand gently brushes treetopsA clear-white paintbrush

The artist at work bellowsA cry echoes through the hills

Darkness falls too soonA faint crescent moon glows dimThe deer hides alone

A battle cry of hawksA small corpse falls like arrows

The air in winterhuddles on the broken axeUnrelenting trees

Nighttime air is like winterCold unrelenting darkness

Collaboration

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Blossoms red and pinkColor in the mountain shadeBirds welcome the spring

Sharp beaks savor the sweet seedsDuty to newborn flowers

Collaboration

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BurnsideAlex McVey

Lincoln High School


It bisects the river and splits the town,from rolling hillsto the bright lightsof the city, to the quietlife of the suburbs,passing forests and parks,while leading onto hectic restaurantsand towering skyscrapers,the busy and chaotic lifeof traffic, pedestrians, moretraffic competing to get through, but also the calmnesswhile passing a bookstorewith ancient tales andnew stories, while findingits core at a bridgeover flowing water—it is Burnside,the fiery street of Portland.

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RebelAdeline Lefevre

Lincoln High School


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KnowingKiley Yuthas

Lincoln High School


The trees knowof the human experiencethey have watched itfor many lifetimesyet Ia cog in this machine ofhuman-nesscannot fathomall its parts

The trees knowto accept the worldits meannessits serenityas factyet Itry to make sensetry to make concretethe sting of rejectionthe pain of life lostthe wild unpredictabilityof human action

The trees knowwhy I ask questionsbut still urge meto nap in the sunand take rootin my profoundaloneness

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Fire CrackersHengyu Cui

Lincoln High School

WITS Writer: Ramiza Koya

I remember the first time I set off firework on Chinese New Year. It was very exciting. Looking at all the “flower” blow up in the sky, I felt I wanted to do it again. The next day, I played with some leftover fire crackers with my cousin. There were a lot of different kinds, some of them like fire fountains, some that were very long that can keep popping for minutes, but what I liked the most was crackers that were very powerful. We used it to blow up the hard cold ground and snow, and sometimes we use more than one in the same time, and I remember that was the first time I got in trouble. When my cousin put the cracker on a trash can and put a rock on top of it, I though it would be fine, so I fired it up, and when I looked back, my cousin and all his friends were running away. I didn’t know what happened, so I just ran with them. When I heard the blow, I looked back, I saw there was a big hole on top of the trash can. I guess my cousin knew it was going to be this bad and that was exactly what they wanted to see. At that time, I know I would got in trouble because of him, so I kept running. At that time, an old man upstairs yelled at us from the window, said something about he is coming to get us, but he never did because he didn’t see us in the face, and had no idea who we were. If I could, I would give up everything to go back to that year, being happy and nothing to worry about.

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Faces in the WallsGeorgia Gustavson

Lincoln High School


Rolling and reelingOne recedes into the abyss of their eyes,Retinal seas,Shrouded woods of dragon green holly red andCerebral, hot, empty white, mirroring aHot place in my head, under the smile, disguisedAnd coming out and crawling into the screen, the skinCrying, creaking, weeping whispers that I did not find the way,How instead, upon entering, the way found me.

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My Favorite Place in the WorldJocelyn Garcia

Lincoln High School


I close my eyes and I can feel it coming, the dream that I have been waiting for… I close my eyes tightly so it doesn’t go away. In a moment, I fly to my favorite place in the world – my hometown, San Martin Lachila, Ejutla Oaxaca, Mexico. The street address, Hidalgo # 19, is the best place in the entire world, the place where I can feel free. There are a lot of things I have done on that street, memories that I will never forget. Everything I see is peaceful and quiet, and I know every person. There are no strangers here. When I’m sad or depressed the only way to forget all my problems is to remember that place that immediately transports to me to the world of my childhood. A flood of memories rushes through me, and my problems disappear. To have the people that I love next to my house is the thing that I want the most. The thought of my family members and friends makes me happy every time I remember each place… “Las huellas que he dejado”… The taste and smell of the air is the best around the world, and taste of “la tierra pura” makes me want to eat it, and to feel the sand on my bare feet is an emotion that I can’t explain. I wake up every morning and smell the best food ever, and I know that my mom is cooking tortillas. This is the place where I know that I’m safe, that nothing will happen to me, I don’t have to worry, and I don’t have to have tears in my eyes because I live far away from the place that I love. It’s a beautiful day in a peaceful field in the countryside. I can feel the tranquility in my heart and in my mind, like one moment of peace. All my worries are gone just because I’m here in this beautiful place. All around me, I see a place without pain and sadness. The sunlight touching my face is like feeling alive. Feeling my heartbeats of happiness, I can’t find the reason why, but I just smile. I lift my head to see the roses, grass, and trees next to me. I wish this could continue forever, but within seconds everything changes when a big storm arrives suddenly. I did not expect it. All the beautiful things and feelings that I just had are disappearing, as if everything were becoming white. I’m confused and scared, like if I awaken from this dream I would never return.

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The Mysterious Ship at SeaMolly Mastrorilli

Lincoln High School


The sky is clear with white cloudswhile the sea is dark and stormy.The ship far in the distancelooks for a way back home.

Soon these white clouds will disappear,replaced by inky black ones.The ship may be surrounded, thenpulled under by the sea.

If that happens, when that happens,waves will envelop the ship.People on deck may try to swim;yet, they will be damned to death by the sea.

Someday, some may find that shipunder the sea, surrounded by sand and fish.They will live in the dark about what happenedto all those bodies rotting away on the ocean floor.

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No More Quarters for the ArcadePhoebe Nguyen

Lincoln High School

WITS Writer: Matthew Zrebski

CHARACTERSJOHNNY, high school age, restricted, angry

TIMEPresent

PLACERural, house

(An open room lit by candles is only furnished with a chair and a table. JOHNNY is sitting on the table.)

JOHNNYJesus, it’s midnight, where have you been? Ugh, no point in even asking anymore, just sit down, you look like hell. I gotta talk to you about some stuff. Look at me when I’m talking to you! God, it’s about the kids. For Christ sake everything is happening so fast and since you are always out drinking… I have to take care of the kids by myself. I’m supposed to be their cool big brother, the one they run to when they want a cookie, not their big brother who makes them go to bed when they don’t wanna. I haven’t had time for myself, even to focus on school so I had to drop out of Jackson. You probably didn’t even know that… and now I’m here trying to balance home schooling myself and taking care of the kids. It’s so hard and frustrating because they are a handful and you’re never around to help! Jenny isn’t even potty trained and is constantly going in her bed, maybe I’m not feeding her right because her crap is not the right consistency and James… ugh he won’t ever listen to me and refuses to put clothes on so he is just running naked around the house, free as a damn horse! And feeding and making food for them, do not get me started on that, I have to squeeze their mouths, just like this to get them to chew. I swear they are going to be alcoholics just like you so they never have to chew. Lord, you are like my 7th child, I always have to care for you when you come home wasted, which is all the damn time. You don’t even go to work now and I can’t go to work because I’m caring for seven children and it took all of this to make me understand the hell mom went through. You were better when she was still around, you were my dad, not my son. She would never want to see you like this or any of us the way we are now… I guess now’s a good time to show you a letter we got from the county today. Look here, we haven’t paid our bills and we owe five grand, five grand and we barely have enough for groceries! If we don’t pay, they will kick us out and child services will take the kids away and separate them. I’m just so pissed at you, I want to go over and just ughhh strangle you! But then I’d be all alone... But I can’t stay in this house, this town, this state for the rest of my life! I’m at the age where school should be all I focus on so I can leave to go to college and start my own life. You have to stop acting this way, now! The drinking and late nights worry me sick. What if you never come home, what if you… died? You

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selfish bastard! We all are going through the same thing right now. There’s no excuse for you to be doing whatever the hell you want to while I’m stuck here doing all the shit you should be doing! You know, I bet she’s looking down on you now, so disappointed and sad she can’t help, but also pissed ‘cause you aren’t doing anything. If it makes you feel any better, she knows you can change. You can’t honestly tell me you want the kids to be taken away. If you keep this shit up, they will leave me and you. You can’t let this happen, you just can’t. Dammit, Dad, stop this, all of this... please. We need you now more than ever.

Phoebe Nguyen

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Cloud AcrosticBailey Smith

Lincoln High School


Bright clouds behind blue paper,Red sunset fades at dusk.Each cloud uniqueAnd special in its own way—Kind of like a new beginning.They parade through the sky,Have a presence all their own.Round puffs shield the sun,Omit light from the earthUntil they clear away andGive their space to a perfect blue.Heaven is their home.

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About MyselfAngeles Abril

Lincoln High School


What I like about myself is that I’m 100% Mexican and I’m proud about it. I’m not just proud to be Mexican, it’s also that my life has shown me to be a real Mexican. From when I was born until I was five years, old I had to go with my sisters to the hills to take care of the animals. We had to start school, then do our homework and then go to take care of the animals; that was our daily routine every day. I learned to cook and clean my house, on my own without anybody telling me to do it. At the time I was a little bit poor but I didn’t care because I only cared about and still only about my family. If someone asked me where I come from, I would say proudly that I come from San Martin Lachila Ejutla, Oaxaca. If people ask me what I learned there, I would say the truth of what I learned in my favorite town. I learned in Oaxaca to be a decent girl, to cook delicious Mexican food at a young age, and other things that make me see the world differ-ently from the way other people see the world. I care about my family, because that is the only thing that can make you happy with the ones that care about you, are your friends that loved you like no one else. I love to be Mexican and if someone asked me if I wish to be something else I would say no because I want to be me, not a fake person.

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Unexplored TerritoryIsabel Nattagh

Lincoln High School


You do not have to speak.You only have to be silent.Hear the soft coos of the birds.Do you too cry out in loneliness?Watch the moon.Appreciate the light that surrounds you.Watch the trees sway in the wind.Reach out and try to touch the other side.Call out to meOr I’ll call out to you.I am also alone.

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Love and WarPreeta Hopwood

Lincoln High School


Tousled hair and rumpled bedding,Lips pressed against another’s,Legs tangle, bare and sensual.His arms circle a body with passion.Her fingers splay wide on his back.

Hair flying and heated air,Lips spew poison.Legs stand, imposing, unyielding.His arms cross in defiance.Her fingers clench at her sides.

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CompanionKatherine Cobb

Lincoln High School


Between her two fingersrests a cigarette

A second-hand skirt, long and green bunches around her hips— too big for her small frame

Half gone—its ashes on the wind

A low-cut white blouse falls off her shoulders like a curtain

Eyes spill sadness,eyes grown cynical

A brown jacket stretched and wrinkled from years of use worn by some man before her

Eyes view the world like smoke:distant, vanishing…Only her and cigarette

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Confession - inspired by “Bird Trap,” by Frank Boyden

Ruhika Prasad

Lincoln High School


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RegretAllison Marcott

Lincoln High School


You turn backand look at what you didor what you didn’t doand your muscles tighten;the looming shadow swallows you whole.It clings to youwith its tightened grip.You either learn to play the gameor refuse to let it change you.

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A Reluctant Bride’s ReflectionEmma Siddall

Lincoln High School


On the eve of her weddingthe bride-to-be searches for a reason why.In the mirror, her face looks older—at the age to settle down.But she still feels like a child—lost and tired and alone—after a day of playing dress-upand pretending to be someone else.

On the eve of her weddingthe bride-to-be searches for a reason why not.The dress is too big, too grandiose.Her mom says she looks like a princess.But she doesn’t believe in fairy tales.Long gone are the days of princes,dragons, and knights in shining armor.It’s time for her to grow up.Besides, she never didlook good in white.

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Our Complex BeingNatalie George

Lincoln High School


what lies beneath the surface? disguised by skinlayer by layer when our covering deteriorateswhat are we left with? left with the structurethe fabrication of our being the framework that makes us human it is our design

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Should Have Been AbortedLauren Wilson

Lincoln High School

WITS Writer: Matt Zrebski

CHARACTERSLAUREN, teenage girl, emotional, sarcastic, monotone

TIMENow

PLACEIn the car

LAUREN I am a very emotionally sensitive person. If you yell at me, I will probably cry for at least four hours. So, my most recent breakup with a boy I was with for a year and a half was pure hell. I kept sobbing for hours, and I’d sob so hard that I would puke almost all day long. It wasn’t fun. My breakup happened in the middle of summer, so my brother was home from college in the midst of my sadness, and he wanted to go to the Nike Employee Store. So we went with my mom so she could pay for everything, and we went on a day that I was feeling alright. I mean, I hadn’t puked in fourteen hours or so. But in the car on the way to the Employee Store, my brother’s driving made me feel really dizzy and uneasy. I told Brandon, “I don’t… really… feel gooood…,” and he said, “You are not puking in this fucking car.” My mom went into super Jersey mom mode and handed me a grocery bag while loudly saying, “Brandon, stop swearing.” My vision was going in and out and everything was really blurry and my hands were shaking and all I could hear was my brother saying, “Lauren, I swear if you puke while I am driving this goddamn – Oh god. Jesus Christ.” I started puking into the bag, but it broke and the puke spilled into my lap. “You see what happens when you don’t use a condom, mom?” my brother was yelling. My mom was saying stuff like “Brandon, be nice to your sister” and “Do you want some soap in your mouth?” The puke spilling in my lap got me more nauseated, so here we went again. “Jesus – DON’T ROLL UP YOUR FUCKING WINDOW.” “But the wind is making me blerghhjkfahhh.” “You should’ve been aborted.” My mom in the backseat kept handing me tissues and was trying to comfort my sobbing sick self while yelling “Brandon” repeatedly in an angry New Jersey accent and scowling at him. I felt beyond awful for not being able to control my puke. When we finally got to the Employee Store, we cleaned the puke up and threw it away. Of course, my mom had to use the trashcan that was half a mile away from the car. And then she asks where my ID is to get into the Employee Store, and I burst into tears because I forgot it. My brother walks away just repeating to himself out loud, “Nope. Nope. Nope.” Then I knew that I’m just a walking disaster. At least I didn’t smell like puke THAT much.

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CagedLauren Knox

Lincoln High School


A figure sits staring at us: his audiencefar too big for his small wicker chair.Dark black lines run down his face.He is contorted,trapped by different perspectivesagainst a flat noteof bright butteryellow.

His face is dissected.His features are marred and mutated.His eyes, an ear, a nose, a mouth,a soft patch of feathery black hairpeek out from a jumble of featuresand a mat of skin, flushpink.

He is ugly to some,beautiful to others.He is utterly inhuman,yethe is all too familiar,and far too captivating.

We sit in his same wicker chair.Black lines run down our faces.We are ugly to some.We are beautiful to others.We, too, are caged.

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Vicious CycleDaniel Pinter

Lincoln High School


Perplexing bullets enter alone,Energetically raining down,And yet not enough toContain the demons inside fromEternally repeating.

No amount of money willEver stop the battle fromEnding: it rages on. We are foreverDoomed to hear gunshotsEchoing in the deepestDark

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WhirlpoolAlex Laub

Lincoln High School


Winter winds bite at the tide,Hearts pounding, aching to keep us warm.Ignited by the rush of blood to the head,Raging crystals fret against our scalps and around our arms.Lost beyond the shore,Pleading and begging thatOur only hopes don’t becomeOld memoriesLost below the swirling tidal wave.

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That PlaceMagnolia Garcia

Lincoln High School


At the top of a hill, where my mind can be without humanity. Breathing the sweet smells of the flowers, trees, and hear the beautiful sound of the birds singing. This is one of the places on the world I love to be – to be alone and think a lot, asking myself, what is my mission in this world? Who am I, really? Is someone special waiting for me? Is someone else feeling the same thing that I’m feeling right now? What else is waiting for me? Sadness, happiness, or death? What is after death? Will I find someone who really loves me the way I am and care about me? And there are other questions that one day I might know the answers to, or maybe never. The only thing I can do is enjoy every second of my life because that second will never happen again. Yesterday was history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift.

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The Pyramid of Nature – A Letter to YouAngelo Sampson

Lincoln High School


There is a certain way to things.I have my place;you have yours.The ripple you causemay upset manybut not only in the way you know.I too impact the world—not you perhaps,but somesmaller than youand larger than myself.

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The EyesAngelo Sampson

Lincoln High School


Focus.Look through the heavens—straight at the gods.

Blur.Look down at the ground,you will smell your own stink.

They are waiting,watching every move.Will you succeed?

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Paper TownsGrace Sullivan

Lincoln High School


Paper promises are rarely keptAnd clean-cut lawns conceal the truth.Plastic houses always look the same:Every night they lay silent asReality is twisted and hidden away.

Tormented, we tell lies to friends;Overwrought responses barely conceal pain.Whispers in the night echo loneliness andNever hold the answers to questions of the heart.Soaring with the muted dawn, we release them.

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The Old Best FriendCharles Liu

Lincoln High School


Stranger: (A voice sounded) A cun time as a cun gold, but a cun gold can not buy a cun time. Treasure your time, kid. Me: Ah? who’s there? What did you said? A cun? What do you mean by that? Wait… Oh my gosh… It’s 1:00 o’clock! It’s after midnight! I’m gonna go back to sleep. Stranger: (A voice sounded again)A cun is about three inches long. It is an ancient unit of Chi-nese measurement. Me: Okay. Whatever you say, bro… I’m gonna sleep now. Let’s talk about this tomorrow morning. Stranger: My voice will never disappear until you give me feedback for my sentence. Me: Okay… Okay… That was an old saying, man. Now do you feel better? Stranger: A little bit… Me: Hmmm… Did you treasure your time when you were a child? (I was being sarcastic with him, the person who broke my sweet dream.) Stranger: I didn’t, I felt regret, and I see now that you are wasting your time, so I came to remind you to treasure your time. Me: Wait what? What do you mean by that, Stranger? Am I not living a good life? Also, how are you going to remind me of that even though you didn’t treasure your time? Watch your language, Little Stranger. Stranger: Well, well, well. A person who always fighting, smoking, getting F’s in school, never going home before 10 o’clock, always arguing with your parents and teachers although they just try to make you a better person. Now you tell me, how good can a person like that be? Me: Oh…Okay…but, how do you know anything about my childhood? Who are you? Stranger: I’m your father, son. Me: Shut up! You are liar! My father has been living in America for three years, and you and I are in China! Stranger: Haha, I was joking, I’m your mom. Me: Stop fooling around, my parents both moved to America. Stranger: Okay, the game was fun, but now let me tell you the truth: I’m your uncle! Me: I tired of this stupid game, Stranger. My uncle died last year. I think it’s time to back to sleep now. Stranger: Haha, kid, you are smarter than I thought. Me: No, it’s just that your trick is so stupid and easy to figure out. Stranger: No matter. Just treasure your time. Me: Okay, okay, but stranger who hell are you? Why should I listen to you lecture? Because you are so amazing that you are annoying me at 1:00 o’clock at midnight, or some other reason? Stranger: It doesn’t matter who I am. Just listen to my recommendation. Me: You are a weird guy… (I think I recognized who the stranger is – an old crazy guy that he likes annoying people at 1:00 o’clock after midnight.)

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Stranger: You are already fifteen, how much knowledge you have now? Can you get all A’s in school? Can you get a job at a company? Can you get paid a lot for some special ability that you own? Me: Well…Ehhh…that’s good question… I supposed… Stranger: Answer my question! Me: I …I… I can’t… Stranger: This is what I am talking about. As the old saying said. Endless opportunities for making money. But, no matter how much money you have, you still cannot buy any time although you have a golden mountain, you still cannot buy a minute, you still cannot buy a minute that you wasted in your childhood. So, please be treasuring your time and working hard now. Me: Ehnnnn… I think…. think I understand. Thank you for mentioning this to me. Your words are fact. I think I should change now. No one wants to become trash in the future. By the way, Stranger, would you let me know who you really are? Please? Stranger: I am yourself. I am the symbol of kindness, justice, honest, friendliness, and strug-gling. For some reason, we got lost when we were really young. But, we seem to be getting back now. I hope this conversation tonight allows you to learn something that can really help you. Okay, have a good night. (And the voice disappeared, but, I don’t want to go back to sleep anymore.)

Charles Liu

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MirrorQuinn Catkins

Lincoln High School


A face full of teeth:the feral sibling smiles, tongue lolling.The wild mane dancing.Eyeing myself, now I see.

Now I see,eyeing myself:the wild mane dancing,smiles, tongue lolling.The feral sibling?A face full of teeth.

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ReflectionIyla Ingalls

Lincoln High School


In the eyes of the wild beasts,I am the predator.Sweat, blood,clouds my vision and paints a pictureon the wall:two sets of eyes,a hunchback with a twisted mouth,deformed.I hide.I hide,deformed,with a twisted mouth,a hunchback,two sets of eyes.On the wall,a pictureclouds my vision and paintssweat, blood.I am the predatorin the eyes of the wild beasts.

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The Nature of ThingsKyle Corbett

Lincoln High School


Is all that is lefta simple piece of clothing,lying on a shelf,in remembrance of what was?Taken away by ones who didn’t belong.Their land, stolen.The people,the native creatures,hunted to near extinctionhiding away in what is left.Nature is cruel and chaotic:Death lies everywhereandthe circle of life continues.The circle of life continuesandDeath lies everywhere.Nature is cruel and chaotic, hiding away in what is left.hunted to near extinction.The native creatures—the people.their land, stolen,taken away by ones who didn’t belong.In remembrance of what was:lying on a shelf,a simple piece of clothingis all that is left.

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UntitledVan Engstrom

Lincoln High School


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StarsClemen Deng

Lincoln High School


Each of you lasting billions of years,burning faster and fasteruntil total destruction,ejecting chunks of new elements and organismswhich slowly grow into us.We are stardust.

Fiery chaos, charred doom, implosions, explosions,and life, light, and summer.You are paradox, contrast.And yet so reliable,shining overhead every day,providing warmth, energy, hope.

So now here we are,born from your death, sustained by your breath.We should not worship Gods, no.You are the real creators.

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The Universe and MyselfKate Richardson

Lincoln High School


As I sit at duskmy fishing poleflings the mooninto the skythe lights mute purpleencompassing the worldin darknessI stay awakecontemplatingthe universeand myselfand how we fit togetherI yawnreleasing the suninto the sky

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Space RaceBrian Young

Lincoln High School


Oh god, they’re back.Shields down. What was that?Probably just a sensor glitch.Call nearby vessels.It’s not working—Engage hyperspace.Mainframe is critical!Vitals down—Flash—Help me fix life support.We’ll be fine as long as youjust don’t say this twice.Just don’t say this twice:we’ll be fine as long as youhelp me fix life support.—Flash—Vitals down,Mainframe is critical!Engage hyperspace.It’s not working—call nearby vessels!Probably just a sensor glitch.Shields down—what was that?Oh god, they’re back!

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Letter for my GrandfatherLorna Perez

Lincoln High School


Hi grandfather!It’s me Lorna. Do you remember me? I miss you so much. You went too fast, in the blink of an eye.I still love and remember you, you know. I’m growing very fast, but I still have this childhood that you left me. I am now trying to archieve goals that I promised you, like learn English and study very hard. I promise you I will finish high school and go to college, like you wanted.I’m living in Portland with my aunt. She is very fun, and I love her very much. My life in Portland is beautiful. I met many people from different countries of the world. I love living here, but it’s a little hard, because I have been learning English for only eight months, but I know in the future I will speak English very well. I might even take French next year. Grandfather, at my school, I’m the only girl who is at level 1 in the ESL program and I have a teacher who is like you.

You know, I miss you so much. I want to turn back time because I want to laugh, play, jump, run, and do everything like we used to. Never forget that. I love you so so so so much.

I love you grandfather!Lorna

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Writers in the Schools

Carl Adamshick is a poet who recently won the Walt Whitman Award and the Oregon Book Award for his collection of poems, Curses and Wishes.

Lorraine Bahr is an award-winning actress, playwright, and director. She teaches Acting at Portland State University, Washington and Oregon high schools, and at Young Musicians & Artists; she is co-founder and Associate Artistic Director of Sowelu Ensemble Theater in Portland. Lorraine is also a regular performer for Portland Playhouse. Her produced plays include Life Alone, Bottomless, Count Time, Charlie Stone, and Live Nude Fear. Her monologue, “Eight Break-ups” has been published in Poetry Northwest.

Alex Behr is a writer, editor, and musician. After receiving an MFA in creative writing from Portland State, she taught creative and technical writing at Saturday Academy, Portland State, and Chemeketa Community College. She dredged up embarrassing sections of her teenage diaries for the comedy show Mortified, performing in various U.S. cities. Her short stories, interviews, and essays have appeared in Oregon Humanities, Utne Reader, Tin House, The Rumpus, Lumina, NPR.org, Boneshaker, and Propeller Quarterly. Alex has had a long career in educational publishing. Recently, she ghostwrote numerous adventures, romances, and ghost stories for struggling readers.

Carmen T. Bernier-Grand is the author of eleven books for children and young adults. Three of her biographies have received Pura Belpré Author Honor Awards.She teaches writing at Wordstock, Writers in the Schools, and the Northwest Institute of Literary Arts MFA program. In 2008, the Oregon Library Association’s Children’s Division gave her the Evelyn Sibley Lampman Award for her significant contributions to the children of Oregon in the field of children’s literature. Bernier-Grand grew up in Puerto Rico, but now lives with her husband and bilingual dog in Portland, Oregon.

Serena Crawford’s fiction has appeared in Epoch, Other Voices, Ascent, Another Chicago Magazine, The Greensboro Review, Nimrod, Hawaii Review, Sonora Review, The Florida Review, and elsewhere. The recipient of fellowships from Literary Arts and the National Endowment for the Arts, she holds an MFA from the University of Oregon, where she also taught creative writing.

Lisa Eisenberg is a cartoonist and illustrator. Her comics have appeared in the anthologies Papercutter, So…Buttons, Bearfight!, Digestate, Runner Runner, and The Strumpet. Since 2008 she has self-published the series I Cut My Hair, a collection of fiction and nonfiction comics. She is a teaching artist with Young Audiences and a Comics Certificate Program Advisor at the Independent Publishing Resource Center. Lisa has also taught comics classes at Open Meadow Middle School, Stumptown Comics Fest, and Caldera. She is currently at work on a graphic novel.

Casey Fuller has worked as an auto detailer, burrito roller, fruit vendor, note taker, office worker, and most recently as a forklift driver in a warehouse where he wrote poems during his breaks. He

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received his MFA from the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University in 2009. His poems have appeared in Crab Creek Review, The Portland Review, Two Hawks, PALABRA, and other places. He is the winner of the Jeanne Lohmann Poetry Award, a Here Today art grant, and the Floating Bridge Chapbook Award for his book, A Fort Made of Doors. He currently lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife Katrina, and two cats, Monty and Garcia Lorca. But he is originally from Olympia, Washington, which means he has a somewhat adversarial relationship with Portland, as Portland stole Olympia’s best bands.

James Gendron is the author of Sexual Boat (Sex Boats) and the chapbook Money Poems. He was born in Portland, Maine, and lives in Portland, Oregon, where he teaches writing at Portland State University.

Jonathan Hill is a cartoonist and illustrator. His first graphic novel, Americus, a collaboration with MK Reed, has garnered a handful of accolades including YALSA 2012 Best Graphic Novel for Teens Nominee, ABC New Voices 2011 Title, Graphic Novel Reporter Best of 2011, and the 2012 Carla Cohen Free Speech Award. He currently freelances, teaches comics classes at the Oregon College of Art and Craft, and is working on two new graphic novels and a children’s book.

John Isaacson is a cartoonist and writer whose comics and journalism have appeared in the Willamette Week, The East Bay Express, The Santa Barbara Independent, and the Side B and Bridge Project anthologies. His first graphic novel, Do It Yourself Screen-Printing, was published in 2007. He currently self-publishes a mini-comic, Feedback, which reviews concerts by local bands in comic form.

Apricot Anderson Irving is a writer and audio producer whose work has appeared on This American Life as well as in Granta, Tin House, Oregon Humanities, MORE Magazine and The Best Women’s Travel Writing. She is the founder and director of the Boise Voices Oral History Project and the recipient of a Rona Jaffe Writer’s Award and a Literary Arts Fellowship. She teaches Creative Nonfiction part-time at PSU, has lived on three continents and loves adventures with her wild, inventive boys.

Ramiza Koya’s fiction and nonfiction have appeared in publications such as Washington Square Review, Lumina, and Catamaran, and she has been a fellow at both MacDowell Colony and Blue Mountain Center. She has both a BA and an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College, and has taught in Spain, the Czech Republic, and Morocco. In addition to teaching composition courses, she also works as a freelance writer and editor. She is currently an adjunct instructor at Portland Community College.

Kathleen Lane is a fiction writer, visiting artist at Pacific Northwest College of Art, and co-creator of the art & literary event series SHARE. Her stories have been published by Swink Magazine, Chronicle Books, Poor Claudia, Coal City Review, and others. Before Portland she was a staff writer for Wieden + Kennedy Amsterdam and co-founder of ART 180, a nonprofit in Richmond, Virginia that gives kids living in challenging circumstances a voice through the arts.

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Timothy S. Lane graduated from the University of Oregon with a journalism degree and worked as a sports reporter for The Molalla Pioneer before pursuing a career in publishing in New York City. His writing has appeared in The Good Men Project and Pology. He lives with his wife in Portland, Oregon.

Amy Minato is author of a memoir, Siesta Lane, published in 2009 and a poetry collection, The Wider Lens, published in 2004. Her poetry has appeared in Wilderness Magazine, Poetry East, Windfall, Cimarron Review, and The Oregonian Poetry Corner, and has been recognized with a 2003 Oregon Literary Arts Fellowship. She teaches creative writing independently and through Fishtrap, Breitenbush, Sitka, and Opal Creek.

Lee Montgomery is the author of The Things Between Us, Whose World Is This?, and Searching for Emily: Illustrated. The Things Between Us received the 2007 Oregon Book Award in creative nonfiction and Whose World Is This? received the 2007 John Simmons Iowa Short Fiction Award and was a finalist for the Ken Kesey Award in Fiction in 2008. Montgomery’s work has appeared in publications such as the New York Times magazine, Glimmer Train, Black Clock, Iowa Review, Denver Quarterly, Story Magazine, Alaska Quarterly, the Santa Monica Review and the Antioch Review, among many others. Montgomery has also worked as an editor. She was the fiction editor of the Iowa Review, the editor of the Santa Monica Review, senior editor for Dove Books, executive editor for Tin House magazine, and the associate publisher and editorial director of Tin House Books. She lives with her husband and daughter in Portland, Oregon.

Mark Pomeroy grew up in northeast Portland. He has received an Oregon Literary Fellowship for fiction and a residency at Caldera Arts. His short stories, poems, and essays have appeared in Open Spaces, The Wordstock 10, Portland Magazine, The Oregonian, the Waco Tribune-Herald, and What Teaching Means: Stories from America’s Classrooms. A former classroom teacher, he holds an MA in English Education from Teachers College, Columbia University, where he was a Fellow in Teaching. He’s also an editor for Spoonwiz, a culinary website, www.spoonwiz.com. He lives with his family in northeast Portland, where he’s at work on a novel.

Melissa Reeser Poulin is an award-winning poet and writer. She received her MFA from Seattle Pacific University. Her work has appeared in Calyx, Catamaran Literary Journal, Ruminate Magazine, Sugar House Review, and Water~Stone Review, among other publications. Melissa has worked on organic farms and is currently editing an anthology of new writing on bees (wingedbook.com).

Carter Sickels is the author of the novel The Evening Hour, a Finalist for the 2013 Oregon Book Award, the Lambda Literary Debut Fiction Award, and the Publishing Triangle Edmund White Debut Fiction Award. Carter is winner of the 2013 Lambda Literary Emerging Writer Award, and the recipient of a 2013 project grant from the Regional Arts & Culture Council. Carter has taught creative writing classes for the Attic Institute, Hugo House, and Gotham Writers’ Workshop. He is currently Visiting Faculty for West Virginia Wesleyan’s Low Residency MFA Program. Carter lives in Portland, Oregon.

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Desmond Spann is on a mission to motivate and inspire positive changes in people’s lives while having a crapload of fun. Under the name DLUXTL (TL=The Light) he performs spoken word, plays keyboard with Hip-Hop fusion band Speaker Minds, emcees (rap), and produces. He has dedicated his life to creating more passionate people who express themselves freely. Desmond uses rap, poetry, and performance as vehicles to encourage students to be bold in finding their unique voice.

Poet-dramatist Cindy Williams Gutiérrez collaborates with musicians, thespians, and visual artists. Her collection, the small claim of bones, is forthcoming from Bilingual Press (Arizona State University). Poems and reviews appear in Borderlands, Calyx, Harvard’s Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion, UNAM’s Periódico de poesía, Portland Review, and Rain Taxi. Her CD, “Emerald Heart,” reimagines Aztec poetry accompanied by pre-Hispanic music. Her plays have been produced by Milagro and Insight Out Theatre Collective. Cindy earned an MFA from the University of Southern Maine and teaches youth through the Portland Art Museum, Right Brain Initiative, Wordstock, and Writers in the Schools.

Matt Zrebski is a multi-award winning playwright, composer, script consultant, teaching artist, and producer-director whose career has been defined by new play development. As an Artistic Director, he mounted over 40 world premieres, and has had several of his plays produced, including Texting the Sun, 1 ½, Big Sis, and Ablaze. As the Resident Teaching Artist at Portland Center Stage, he teaches playwriting through Visions and Voices, and is on staff for Acting Academy at Oregon Children’s Theatre. Zrebski holds a BFA in Theatre from the Meadows School of the Arts at Southern Methodist University.

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Documents

The Artist Bellows: Lincoln HS Edition