Plain China

November 2013

Boys' Weekend

Henry Russell · Dartmouth College

When I discovered the tent in the back corner of my grandparent’s A-frame, I never expected my dad would let me sleep in it for the boys’ weekend, but when I asked, he said, “Sure, champ,” and we took it to the backyard and put it up together. “Boys should always work hard,” he said, as he hammered the last stake into the ground, “but a boys’ weekend is a time for fun. Got it, champ?”

The Lost Language of Longing, or Two Women Walk into a Bar

Hannah Aizenman · University of Pittsburgh · Honorable Mention in Poetry

Two women walk into a bar; they are Lilith and Lot’s wife and they are lonesome tonight.

Consumed

Scott Griffin · University of South Florida

Beau, who lives on my couch, attempts to step out of my car and into waves of heat dancing in the dirt parking lot in front of our duplex. Closer in size to a bear than a man, he has to fight to climb up and out of my mother’s old red Dodge Intrepid with the yellow racing stripe down the side. He shades his eyes from the summer sun and looks at me through the windshield with impatient eyebrows. We’re home early from the diner where we work. He gives up on me while I’m still rolling up the windows and sticking to the driver seat.

It's My Turn, Frank O'Hara

David Scofield · Brown University

From a young age I was naïve enough to know I was a genius.

Cape

Erica Hauswald · Grinnell College

Even the air is ice- ridden.

Boys' Weekend

Henry Russell · Dartmouth College

When I discovered the tent in the back corner of my grandparent’s A-frame, I never expected my dad would let me sleep in it for the boys’ weekend, but when I asked, he said, “Sure, champ,” and we took it to the backyard and put it up together. “Boys should always work hard,” he said, as he hammered the last stake into the ground, “but a boys’ weekend is a time for fun. Got it, champ?”

The Lost Language of Longing, or Two Women Walk into a Bar

Hannah Aizenman · University of Pittsburgh · Honorable Mention in Poetry

Two women walk into a bar; they are Lilith and Lot’s wife and they are lonesome tonight.

Consumed

Scott Griffin · University of South Florida

Beau, who lives on my couch, attempts to step out of my car and into waves of heat dancing in the dirt parking lot in front of our duplex. Closer in size to a bear than a man, he has to fight to climb up and out of my mother’s old red Dodge Intrepid with the yellow racing stripe down the side. He shades his eyes from the summer sun and looks at me through the windshield with impatient eyebrows. We’re home early from the diner where we work. He gives up on me while I’m still rolling up the windows and sticking to the driver seat.

It's My Turn, Frank O'Hara

David Scofield · Brown University

From a young age I was naïve enough to know I was a genius.

Cape

Erica Hauswald · Grinnell College

Even the air is ice- ridden.