The Artery 2021 1 2 © 2021 English Student Association. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review. Published annually by the English Student Association of Lakehead University in cooperation with the Lakehead University Student Union ESA President Leandra Howald Artery Editor-in-Chief Matthew Benoit ESA Treasurer Mario Koeppel ESA Orillia Representative Rochelle Lamarche Artery Associate Editors Madison Maki Jo Mousseau-Krahn Taylor Onski Sarah Whorpole Cover Art “poem” by Evalina Sacchetti Some characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the authors. 3 President’s Address Normally, I would start off The Artery with a message of hope and pride and celebration of our artists and writers, and a greeting to you, reader, welcoming you to this year’s labour of love. However, this past year has been anything but normal. “Normal” and “new normal” are phrases that have been thrown around and out with the bathwater. We have seen so much pain and suffering this past year, we have felt so much pain and suffering this past year, but we are here. We are here. And so, we humbly offer up the works of our talented writers that have poured their hearts and minds and time into their craft, despite everything that has happened this past year. And this is why we are here. Creativity can often be an outlet for pain or a place to work out trauma, fear and sadness. In The Artery, we are glad to provide both a space for these works of healing and a community in which we can offer support and connection. Normally, I would start off The Artery with a message of hope, but I think the very fact that this edition has been created - that there are artists, writers, and volunteers that participated in the creation of the 2021 edition of The Artery - is a message of hope within itself. We are here to stay. And I am both excited and proud to see what’s in store for The Artery in the years to come. We thank you, readers, writers, artists, and volunteers, for your continued support and interest in Lakehead University’s literary magazine, and we hope you enjoy the 2021 edition of The Artery. Take care and stay safe, readers, Your ESA President, Leandra Howald 4 Letter from the Editor To begin, I would like to thank everybody who submitted. We could not produce The Artery without you, and I appreciate all of the work you put into crafting pieces and confronting the occasionally terrifying prospect of having your work read. I know, especially during the pandemic, it can be difficult to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and produce a work with which you are satisfied. It is a problem I also struggle with in my own writing. For your courage and the immense talent you’ve displayed, thank you. I would like to thank our associate editors: Madison Maki, Taylor Onski, Jo Mousseau-Krahn, and Sarah Whorpole. Without them, I would not have been able to produce this magazine. Their tireless work during the first round of edits vastly streamlined the work that I did later and many of the edits that are reflected in your work come from these talented and attentive folks. It has been a privilege to work with these brilliant women and I hope they will continue to contribute editorial commentary to many projects in the future. Of course, I give my thanks to Rochelle Lamarche, our ESA Orillia Representative, who also served as our production designer. She was indispensable to the process of crafting the aesthetic of this edition of The Artery. Rochelle’s experience and insight in design oozes from every page you read, and I thank her for all her guidance and support. Last but certainly not least, I would like to thank our ESA president, Leandra. Her tireless work to coordinate and manage events this year gave me much more time to concentrate on The Artery and the difficulties the pandemic has placed on our project here. Beyond her work with the English Students’ Association, Leandra has been a tireless advocate for all of our English students as the Student Representative on both the Departmental and Graduate English Committees. Leandra has been a pleasure to work with, and I know she will bring her tenacity, precocity, and vivacity to many projects in the future. May we all be so lucky as to see the fruits of her endeavours. In Solidarity, Matthew Benoit 5 Table of Contents Winners of the 2021 The Artery Writing Contest life as a prayer - Tina Munroe inside-out boy - Austin Campbell Gooseberries - Kelsey Douglas Fleeting Funeral Flights - Samidha Kalia Strange, New Beginnings - Sanjana Sharma Times and Space Bleak and Terrible Ivy League Student – Evalina Sachetti The Story Holder – Andrew Brigham We Will Sings songs - Sanjana Sharma I Ought to be Thy Eve - Madison Maki Tower of Bones - Sena Honke Life Compromised - Kelsey Douglas Musical Energy - Sarah Whorpole Unmasking the Weeds - Marc Viherkoski WHEN: A Four-Letter Word for A Long Four Years - Taylor O’Brien Coughing, Chest Pain, and COVID - Kelsey Douglas Reconvergence - Emma Maki Pen to Paper (or Fingers to Keyboard) An Amateur TedTalk about Writing - Taylor Onski The Phone Call - Cristina Morriello Endless Possibilities - Sanjana Sharma Bloom - Taylor Onski Growers Eyeder – Evalina Sachetti 6 Penning Lines on Your Skin (After) Sunset #75 - Marc Viherkoski “baby love child” - Austin Campbell Unlearned Apathy - Sydney Kondreska Hannah hannaH - Austin Campbell Sunshine Walks Beside Her - Ryan McCulloch Thing Called Love - Ashley Stewart The Hearts Infidelity - Shanna Scarr Perhaps... - Alexandra Dowhoszya Coping with the Rainbow’s Light - Ashley Stewart Me, Myself, and Pie - Taylor Onski A Love That’s True - Marc Viherkoski Confirmation and Apostasy - Matthew Benoit Cum Passio - Matthew Benoit 7 Artery 2021 Writing Contest Winners 8 Grand Prize Winner: life as a prayer Tina Munroe this body is opwaagan when i join the stem that is my flesh with the bowl that is my mind my spirit comes alive i am gashpashizhistikwe like smoke i rise up towards the sky i do my work where eagles fly the highest the words of these lips the actions of these hands the direction of these feet are all meaningless if not connected if not constellated to the chart in my mind the knowledge i seek becomes tobacco for my mindbowl i light fires of offering with my beingness to that grandmother who lowered me as i walk on in grace back to the stars 9 Runners Up: inside-out boy then watch, Austin Campbell as angels in human clothes i’m still trying not to cry… melt knives like butter is that the magic of sadness? with sweet sarcasm the way it unravels like a snake and soft kisses sunning itself along the length of your spine watch this inverted metamorphosis until it recoils and remember: wrenches and writhes your body, healing is not about forgetting. a sick sobbing messy dance? because i used to crave attention bottled tears mean nothing and isn’t the world a stage? if they can’t be filtered and sold i’ll never quit acting: it’s my day-job - packaged and shipped even when greasepaint peels snorted and sliced and injected and the better jokers of our nature scraped off of the ground discover some violent self-indulgence dirt gold money i resist the call to embrace with blood in the soil; some inner unreality why not sell it or, that (probably) threatens us all better, (better?) breathe yourself (sex)? (don’t breathe) talent. breathe (the air is toxic) i turned myself inside out don’t breathe for the world (we’re killing ourselves) like knives buried in my back so deep i feel the hilt of each blade i’m far too young to have been alive this long. 10 Gooseberries Kelsey Douglas The monitors monotonous beeping Gooseberries, please. Echoes through the halls If I were an archeologist, As shoes shuffle slowly Maybe, And masks cover the calls. I’d be able to find some for your next daily Meal. You turn to me and mumble “Gooseberries, please…” But I’m not, I look at you, And the stores are all closed You gaze at me You don’t understand the germs Expectantly. Or how a simple rub of the nose Can hurt you. “Gooseberries, please?” Just moments ago Or how it hurts us, You were eating tomatoes. Not able to kiss you. Your mind plays tricks on you, Masks on, don’t touch, You play air bingo and expect us to play too. But grandma we miss you. “Gooseberries, please-” We’re doctors apart Where did that come from? And together in spirit We’ve never had gooseberries But don’t ask for Or masks “Gooseberries, please” Or doctors in our kingdom. I can’t bear to hear it. 11 Fleeting Funeral Flights Samidha Kalia I attended a funeral once of a close one who died. It was heart wrenching; for everyone around. People prayed for the soul to rest in peace. I, staring from the window, saw the eyelids flutter. I pulled the sleeve of my mother, pointing towards the eyes that were now open And the corpse making its way towards the cremation ground. No one listened. I was ten. They burned a living being.