Sofia Griffin ‘24
I.
She opens the shutters
And lets the light flow.
II.
Water drips onto tiled floor;
The sun dries my curls.
Engraved with a name
Franny Broderson ‘24
Is a baby’s fresh footprint on permanent paper
Untouched by the world and full of possibility.
Eyes dart from place to place blissfully.
No rush, no hurry, and not a single worry.
Babbles of nonsense have others fawning while
Silk fists constantly reach for the unreachable.
Moments flourishing as time is just beginning.
Names in an ink-splotched yearbook
Filled with undefined youths
Wondering what they should be.
Internal clocks tick, tick, tick
While they reach out for answers.
Don’t worry, there’s still time.
A rusty office name plate.
Behind, a suit and tie.
Behind that, a weary soul
Reaching for a break.
One day at a time.
Papery fingers
Are still.
Time’s up.
Waiting: a stone
Engraved with a name.
Through Eight Eyes
Franny Broderson ‘24
I saw a woman:
Towering, eccentric, powerful.
Admiring her majestic plump hands,
Thinking, how wonderful.
How wonderful it is to be different.
Her kind runs the world
I live in it.
That’s why I didn’t run.
Why I didn’t see it coming.
Why I was smashed.
Why would
She kill me
When all we
Are is
Different?
When Intelligence is Artificial
Franny Broderson ’24
We lose our minds.
Lost like misplaced keys
Subconsciously stashed in your pocket.
Whispers of guilt and curiosity buzz in your ear.
You want to feel the magnetic keyboard
Pulling your fingers.
You want to lose your mind
To the one that’s fake.
The students have Questions
El-Shaddai Fessehatsion ‘24
I have so many questions
So many thoughts
But a voice so quiet
And young
It is drowned in the echos
it holds no power
They all decide what I learn
As I sit back and watch
Like an owl observing the world
My life falls into their hands
How come my voice does not matter?
I am right here
I shout
Ask me what I want
My shouts turn to murmurs
Trying to differentiate right and wrong
I stumble around seeking the answer
The all-knowing mind
Franny Broderson ’24
Is wanted dead
By the people who like knowing
They are only human.
Spines of kids in stiff rows ache.
Maybe half think for themselves,
But all are watched.
Watched by the people who like knowing.
Watched by the thing that does.
The mind is taking its first steps,
While some try leading it off a cliff.
Muffled shouts while only humans wrangle.
Now loose spines are silently home.
CLICK Click click…
answer Answer ANSWER.
It only knows when we let it.
A Lost System
El-Shaddai Fessehatsion ‘24
A full classroom
A lost teacher
A confused society
All seeking one answer.
How much do we teach?
What is too much?
The students have questions.
But the teachers can’t answer.
Politics and children:
A mix we don’t want.
Parents hurt.
Teachers stuck in the middle.
When did getting an education become so controversial?
Feel the Rhythm!
Aubrey Iversen ’25
Cherry Cheer
Aubrey Iversen ’25
Neon Night
Isabella Gutierrez ’27
