OR OA R IE 1 LETTER FROM THE EDITOR There is no such thing as an identical human experience. Everything we live through is interpreted through a unique lens, affecting all people differently. Even though this is the case, in many ways, we are all similar. When we are hungry, we eat. When we are cold, we find a way to warm ourselves. We live. We endure. We make continuous efforts. We face times when we are content. We face times when we dream, and on some level want to deny our own realities. We connect with each other through emotions. There are so many other ways in which we are all similar. And each of our similarities not only bind us together, but help form the basis of all art. Art is an expression of our humanity; it can incite a myriad of thoughts and feelings, yet will always find a way to resonate with more than one person. This journal contains wonderful pieces of visual and written art. In it are fragments of time, strong opinions, the depths of imagination, and individuals interpretations of their truths. As readers, you will surely find something in here that will leave an indelible mark on you. Before this letter comes to a close, I would like to thank some people. First and foremost, I would like to thank everyone who submitted to this year’s Sorin Oak Review. Whether your work appears in the final print issue or not, please know that the entireSorin Oak Review staff enjoyed and appreciated your work. This journal would not exist without you. I am exceptionally grateful to Mary Helen Specht, the journal’s faculty advisor, for the immense amount time, support, and advice she gave. And my dearest staff, thank you for all the passion and dedication you put into helping put together this journal. Alexa Bogran and Anthony Truong, I am extremely appreciative of all of the design work you did for the journal, as well as for the effort you both put into managing the visual team. Alexa, I am particularly thankful to you for how accommodating and professional you were in regards to making changes to the journal and posters under a crazy schedule. Sydney Chandler and Elora Dane Shannon, the two of you have my utmost gratitude for graciously managing and working through editing challenges related to the poetry and prose sections of the journal with me. Also, thank you both for running meetings so professionally and for always willingly sharing your opinions and insights. Everyone on the literary and visual review boards, thank you so much for reviewing every piece submitted several times over, carefully voting on what pieces should go into the journal, and for being generous with your voices in discussion. I am thankful to our team of copyeditors who took the time to critically review and edit every piece line by line. And finally, I would like to thank you, the current reader. Thank you for taking the time to explore the artistry and humanity this journal exudes because of these artists’ voices and perspectives. I hope you enjoy reading the 28th volume of Sorin Oak Review. Copyright © St. Edward’s University Sincerely, All Rights Reserved C.J. Shaleesh The Sorin Oak Review is an annual publication of St. Edward’s University. The views expressed in this journal are those of the individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Editor-in-Chief the editors, staff, or the university. St. Edward’s University 3001 South Congress Avenue Austin, Texas 78704 2018 Sorin Oak Review Printed by Ginny’s OneTouchPoint, Austin, Texas TABLE OF CONTENTS 8 14 20 26 34 41 NACHO SINGH AS CHILD POLYETHYLENE A BEGINNING PASSING TIME UNTITLED DE EL PASO SYDNEY CHANDLER LAUGHTER C.J. SHALEESH CHRYSTALLA CHRYSTALLA JESSICA GUAJARDO POETRY MIGUEL ESCOTO POETRY CHRISTODOULOU CHRISTODOULOU VISUAL POETRY VISUAL VISUAL 35 42 ELLEN 10 WE IN THE DIRT PROJECTION 27 BETSY MCKINNEY 21 CONVERSION’S SYDNEY CHANDLER FROM PAST 15 PROSE THIS CLICHÉ POETRY JESSICA GUAJARDO CORINTHIANS FAILED RAY NADEAU IS TABOO VISUAL COMPROMISE PROSE DANE SHANNON ISABELLA SCARPELLI 43 POETRY POETRY 38 VULNERABILITY MELIKA JESSICA GUAJARDO 11 PRECIOUS PARKER VISUAL LAST DAY ON 16 VISUAL AREN 22 28 EARTH: PARTS DOÑA LYDIA DE I AND II PRECIOUS PARKER CALAMITY 44 VISUAL KENDALL SHAW SAN SALVADOR NAMELESS BUD MIGUEL ESCOTO PROSE JESSICA GUAJARDO (A WOMAN) LOVES POETRY VISUAL 39 THE FADING ROSE I ENVY THE (A MAN) SPIDER’S DANE SHANNON ABILITY TO 17 POETRY LET HER 24 SWALLOW 12 SUCCULENT 29 THE PATRIOT MIGUEL ESCOTO ITS HOME AND CONTRAIL LITTLE CROW DANE SHANNON POETRY WHOLE 46 NATALIE LANGHAM MEL SIPKO POETRY SYDNEY CHANDLER STARS IN OIL VISUAL PROSE POETRY CORINNE BATES POETRY 18 13 BOY WHO BLEEDS 25 33 40 47 SATURDAY OR GOODBYE I COULD TAME OVERLOOKING THE FOREST SHIFTING AFTERNOON GIRLHOOD A BRONCO HOMETOWN OF ANXIETY SHADOWS MORGAN HUNNICUTT BRONTE TREAT BRONTE TREAT SARAH WILSON KRISTYN GARZA MORGAN HUNNICUTT POETRY POETRY POETRY VISUAL POETRY POETRY TABLE OF CONTENTS 48 57 68 76 81 92 RATE OF FREDERICKSBURG RAIN ONE MAN FROM AWAY FROM A GORDIAN DESTRUCTION SAMUEL GRIFFITH NATALIE LANGHAM ELLINGER HOME KNOT... MIGUEL ESCOTO POETRY VISUAL JESSICA LILLI HIME SEAN CUBILLAS POETRY GUAJARDO POETRY POETRY 69 VISUAL 58 HAND DOWN 93 49 SUNRISE ON YOUR UNIVERSE 82 CATALYST 6TH STREET BRONTE TREAT 77 FALL FROM THE TANGLE WAITING AGAIN NATALIE LANGHAM DANI GALLUCCI DANE SHANNON POETRY MULBERRY TREE POETRY POETRY SEAN CUBILLAS SYDNEY CHANDLER VISUAL 71 POETRY POETRY AFTER SCHOOL 94 59 SPECIAL RIVERBED STAFF 50 SEAN CUBILLAS OVERSATURATION LOGAN STALLINGS POETRY 78 84 DANI GALLUCCI PROSE RED LIGHTS UNREQUITED POETRY BRONTE TREAT ALEIDA LOPEZ 95 72 POETRY POETRY VISUAL 63 SHAME IS A CONTRIBUTORS RAIN THREE MIDDLE SCHOOL 51 NATALIE LANGHAM BAND ROOM FRUGAL FATHER VISUAL GAVIN C. QUINN HAS A MIDLIFE 79 85 96 POETRY SMALL ON A THYME & CRISIS LITERARY BINARY TRAIN DOUGH DANE SHANNON CONTRIBUTORS DANE SHANNON SYDNEY CHANDLER POETRY 64 WEBSIGHT 73 PROSE PROSE DREAMS MIGUEL ESCOTO C.J. SHALEESH POETRY 98 52 POETRY COLOPHON WHO WILL LOVE 80 91 YOU, MASCULINE 65 75 THIS IS NOT TEMPORARY MAN? MASKS TWO GIRLS AN OASIS PERMANENCE DANE SHANNON ALEX CASTILLON PRECIOUS PARKER SAMUEL GRIFFITH PRECIOUS PARKER POETRY PROSE VISUAL POETRY VISUAL A BEGINNING C.J. SHALEESH One generic day Now that my life is coming to an end, I met my words. it is time to accept reality And those words through unfiltered eyes. consumed letters To properly heal my being that rewrote my world. as much as I can And now, my dear world, in my remaining time, it is me writing to you, and to relinquish not merely my words my repressed pain to or the letters they own. you, world. By existing in my life and gifting me with words, I have been put in a cyclical trance that made the gore of life seem divine, because of an optimistic film, continually thickening over my eyes. Through your aura my skies were regrown; stretching into slender, yet elongated drippings of translucent blue air, softly giggling lavender, and the pink of a chilly day. But that’s just it. Your presence was a farce. All those gentle colors were that of a bruise that slowly blossomed across my skin and insides, until it fully bloomed in my heart. And my words… how I depended on them so much. They were the Band-Aids, medication, and salve that took external injuries, seeped internally, and transformed them into something beautiful on pages. But those letters that formed words on pages were not appealing in any way. Clean pages once pure with inspiration were now filled with itchy splotches of lead and greasy ink splatters. All because I thought my words could heal sewn-up scars, even though years later, they are pus-filled instead. 8 9 LAST DAY ON EARTH: PARTS I AND II MIGUEL ESCOTO Oxford Dictionary revised the meaning of the word “shit.” It hit the fan and the fan became a fireless volcano. Two plus two equaled five. Leaks turned into cascades. Donald made out with Hillary. Vladimir came out as gay. Newsfeeds went to Confession. Pope Frank got a tattoo— the NativeAmerican symbol for “I told you so.” Mona Lisa was ripped in four-hundred parts/million. Wall Street swarmed the Socialist Church. Gardens reeked of gasoline. SantaClause overdosed on Coke —the corporation ignored liability protocol. Murder trended on Twitter. Whiskey mixed with blood: animals as food, humans as animals. Senate committees leaked footage of their ign(orgy). Laughter paired well with the cracking of femurs. Smiles infused arson. Our neighbors bore torches & chanted of regret. You and I stayed in that day like any other lazy Sunday: braiding our legs together where peach fuzz met forests, stitching our palms together with squeezable fingers like toys, rubbing our dirty noses together to scrub the world off our faces, kissing our bodies of fruit dry although sweat dripped from our foreheads, dancing our screaming hearts out under the covers of linen and warmth, choking unpeeled oranges whose nectar was invisible and didn’t stain our pillow castle, juicing the citric, sticky regret out of our systems until there was nothing left but pure happiness: dehydrated, quiet, smiling and asleep; shriveled, nowhere, and everywhere. PROJECTION FROM PAST JESSICA GUAJARDO 10 11 THE PATRIOT SATURDAY AFTERNOON DANE SHANNON MORGAN HUNNICUTT He swells like the plume of a bursting firework. Bradbury rolled off your tongue His voice booms through the living like the honey dripping down my mug room, inflected by red-white-and-blue resonating in my ears, smoke.