Garland Court Review Harold Washington College 2017 2 Since 1962 Garland Court Review is published in the spring of each year by Harold Washington College, 30 E. Lake Street, Chicago, Illinois 60601. Our website is: ccc.edu/gcr The Garland Court Review reads submissions from September to April. Anyone may submit poems, fiction, plays, personal essays, and cover art. Students, faculty, staff, alumni and friends are welcome to contribute content. All rights remain with the content creator. The publication is student edited supervised by the faculty advisor. Any student interested in joining the staff of the magazine is invited to contact a present staff member or the advisor. The works chosen for publication reflect purely a majority decision of the student editorial board. A maximum of five (5) original submissions may be emailed as DOC or TXT files (art as JPG). Submission deadline is March 1 every year. [email protected] Copyright © 2017 by Harold Washington College. Printed in U.S.A. Student Editors: Jeremy Kniola Marvin Lopez Victoria Parra Faculty Advisor: Jeffrey Daniels Grateful acknowledgment is made to the City Colleges of Chicago, Harold Washington College faculty, students, alumni and staff, the Harold Washington English, Speech & Theatre Department, the Art Department, the Reprographics Department, and the students and alumni of the Creative Writing Club. Cover art: "remember" By Kelly D. Pelka Used with the permission of the artist. Cover design by Jeffrey Daniels 3 -for Mayor Harold Washington, Edward Homewood, and Carolyn Rodgers 4 Contents Anthony Acosta Song Name 7 Amelia Amantea Cirque de Maternité 9 Chelsea Bonner I Was an Orchid 10 Brenda Cervantes Dream So Real 11 Gabriel Cruz 12 Years Later 12 Patrick Dorsey 13 Eric Entsminger Pounds 14 Eric Entsminger An Ode to the Net 15 Sabrina Jones Nothing 16 Jeremy Kniola Elephant in the Room 18 Charlie Lang 20 Aurora Lefebvre Existence 22 Aurora Lefebvre Kingdom 23 Chris LeSage First Drink 25 Chris LeSage God’s Work 26 Marvin Lopez New Negative 27 LaMont Mims Genealogy 30 Walter Monterroso The Sun 32 Giovanni Mwesigwa Patriots 33 Aynsley Parker 34 Tamila Pashaee Dear Chicago 35 Andrea Perez Daddy Issues 39 Andrea Perez Wake up! 40 5 Joseph Prettyman I Only Regret That I Have but One Liver to Lose for My Country 41 Joseph Prettyman A Sip to Heaven 44 Isaias Rogel Preventative Latex 47 Janet Roman-Lagunas Red Rose 49 Victoria Rose Shame 58 Victoria Rose Untitled 61 Demarra Rutherford Communication 63 Victor Salgado If I Was God 64 Lily Schmall Cortadito 66 Barbara Jean Smith Letter of Relapse 67 Tondlaya Smith For the Men I Loved 68 6 Anthony Acosta Song Name Given to us at birth Our name is our badge Exhaled repeatedly Rusting and eroding – never feigning a second thought Yet something happens when you say it The way the letters roll of your tongue The way the foundation that is your voice cracks at the forming syllables The way you send chills up, and one heart down in a drop Everything comes to a standstill Time ceases to move Eyes adjusting My vision becomes magnetic to your metallic self Something in the way you call my name If as though a song I had never heard A symphony orchestrated by the greatest conductor Oh how I wish to hear that song again Something in the way you call my name You anchored me, like the one tattooed on my right wrist My one tangible In an otherwise unknown world Something in the way you call my name The anchor grew heavier The song became overplayed I wanted to change tune, but that's all you knew how to play 7 Something in the way you say my name It's now a fleeting memory We've gone our separate ways Hoping to play our songs to others who'd listen Something in the way you said my name I remember why I forgot this song 8 Amelia Amantea Cirque de Maternité All I ever wanted was a baby, a powder-scented bundle, boy or girl, it didn’t matter. I never thought about the contortions that would be required: pinched nerves, squished ribs, kidneys, and bladder, stretched skin. Like an acrobat, he summersaulted inside of my trampoline – stretching my bungee cord uterus to its limits, tumbling and poking. The show ran for just over nine months. In the first act, I walked with grace, like Maria Spelterini on the tightrope, a petite buxom beauty. Weeks later, I morphed into the bearded woman: black wires protruded from my chin and neck. As I grew larger – ample breasts, swollen feet, round belly – my once-graceful steps became heavy elephant treads. By the time I made it to the hospital, I felt like Dolly Dimples, but I was ready for the final performance. As I took deep breaths, I wondered if the flyer was as nervous as I was – until he let go of my trapeze and soared into a larger circus. 9 Chelsea Bonner I Was an Orchid If I happened to have been someone else, weaning off of a silent spell may have taken years, drowning in the same skin you chose to burrow under, seep into soil, root. A friend of mine explained her own process of extracting a similar root. Her hands have learned the mold of mace; a common precaution that becomes vital while wearing woman in a public space. If I happened to have been someone else, reconciling the space I had wrongfully claimed could have cost more than that bottle for a bandage or those pills for a forced prayer. Bodies equipped to combat disease may garden wounds in time, but too often trauma yields to the face of health. If I happened to have been someone else, I may not have mistaken unwelcome hands with the gentle brush of a petal-- but orchids grow to heal on their own. 10 Brenda Cervantes Dream So Real Perhaps it was a dream, she thought. Perhaps if she pinched herself, she would wake up. But she didn’t want to wake up. She wanted to stay in this dream world where she had finally met with her soulmate after 3 months. Her boyfriend had flew off to Germany for school. Although the couple was not okay with the decision, both decided breaking up was the best for them. This was very hard for her to adapt since they were together for over 4 years. The dream felt real. She was hugging him, and felt that warmth under his arms. She felt butterflies in her stomach just like it felt on their first date. In dream the couple was doing what they do best, listening to music. The music made the setting more calming and romantic that both could not get their eyes off each other. As soon as the boy leaned over for a kiss, she woke up with the sound of her phone. She thought it was her alarm, but it was a text. “In town. Can we met?” 11 Gabriel Cruz 12 Years Later Staring at a picture of you ashes kept safe i go back to that day playing about, carefree as you would. thinking it was a game as i chased after you. that smile on your face. and it happened so fast…....your body in the air. i chased after you. you layed so still but your eyes moved about, unable to speak but your eyes said it all scared. figure out what just happened They poured out of their homes. mother now at your side. they carried me away back to the house. i made my escape. to you i went. but they had loaded you up taken you away. mother still at your side. back to the house. locked myself away. a knock on the door after what felt like forever. she told me you were gone. then held me close and as we wept. i could only think... still true to this day... unlike her. i haven't got to say Goodbye 12 Patrick Dorsey she wakes first and leaves dancing out like a flower— cheap, yellow Daisy 13 Eric Entsminger Pounds One more time will make a happy little me. Just three pounds to go, over there, hold it there. Hold it there. Photoshopped crop tops, they're staring at me. Three turns to eight and I wait to consume, hours. Eight turns to five and I still don't want to be alive, tell me Why am I trapped in this shell. my own suburban hell where energy is the enemy. My teeth rot, and my heart stops. 14 Eric Entsminger An Ode to the Net Beyond community. Beyond our comprehension. Did I mention we’re never going back? Settle in. Now it's, screens. Little screens, touch screens and virtual screams for attention. Did I mention we're never going back? Oh no lack of content in this, consumerism click club culture our community induced online detention. Did I mention we're never going back? Might as well opt in to sin, emote ego, and let likes, pokes, and prods undermine our ascension. Did I mention we're never going back? 15 Sabrina Jones Nothing Cold fingers encased my neck like a lover coming close for a kiss. Air instantly ceased. Icy pricks traveled through the entirety of my chest down to my toes. My eyes closed tight. Oddly, these things resembled a kiss of passion, and this was passion, but of an entirely different kind. I swung my arms out at my attacker. Unfazed he leveled his weight on my lower abdomen and locked my hips in place.