• Nonfiction

    Get Chilly

    by Lou Mei Gutsch A lot of people told me that spirits are not real. I didn’t think they were real either until I moved to St. Louis when my culinary school, Oregon Coast Culinary Institute, required us to do a paid internship (externship) for six months. In Missouri, I lived with my brother and found a vegan and vegetarian restaurant called The Tree House to extern as a vegan baker. For a while, everything was going well. That all changed, one early morning, round 5am, on a typical shift when I was the first one there rolling the dough for the doughnuts. I needed some flour, so I walked…

  • Opinion

    Alaska Must Recall Its Socialist Governor

    by Luke Graupmann As a young Alaskan I have become increasingly concerned with our state’s interest in socialism. Governor Dunleavy promised to provide strong conservative leadership, instead he is promoting socialism. His main campaign pledge, entitling Alaskans to $3,000 a year, is universal basic income in action. I intend to call out Dunleavy, for Governor Dunleavy is a socialist. What is universal basic income and how did Governor Dunleavy win his campaign on the issue in one of the reddest states in the country? Universal basic income is a proposal popular among socialists that entitles every citizen to a financial handout from their government. The idea of universal basic income…

  • Poetry

    A Collection of Poems

    by Caroline Oakley _____ Today, it is as if I’ve entered A new gallery of your life ** Remembering your art Through a new perspective. _____ Listen Softly ** move with ease calls out the breeze ** and please please stop trying to appease _____ Release ** find the Language of your Journey walk with the seasons patiently things will always resolve beyond the limits of time. _____ Connection ** Could it be that we drink of the same water, trees and humans formed of the same hummus? ** Do we then each contain The Tree of Life with our hearts? ** We toil and till through the many layers…

  • Nonfiction

    An Unwanted Specter

    by Johanna Kumpula Ghost has been floating over my shoulder like some ill-willed phantom for over ten years. He haunts the little things I do, like checking if both the front and back doors are shut tight, locking the car doors exactly three times every time, or making sure my phone is off whenever I’m in a theater because inevitably someone is going to call. Ghost sits by my ear and sings, typically to the tune of a children’s lullaby, or obscure pop song, that doctor you most certainly saw is going to call with your nonexistent cancer results in the middle of Miles Morales trying to impress Gwen Stacy.…

  • Poetry


    by Gregg Oakley ** Between the soil, tree and wind, I have been given a job to do. No one else seems interested As I walk around in the street, Picking up only what I’ve been given. ** A boisterous wind blew and blew, Just like a young boy shaking the tree Down come the pecans. ** We have been given the earth And the earth provides for us, A perpetual feast.

  • Poetry


    by Gregg Oakley ** I will be saddened As I grow older, Not because of my age, But because my elders, Will be less of my elders. ** Who will I look to For wisdom and guidance? Who will advise me With words of experience? ** Not knowledge, Not information, But lived wisdom. ** I will be saddened when my elders Become less of My elders.

  • Nonfiction

    Banned Books and Modern Borders

    by Gregg Oakley As the guards were speaking amongst each other in Russian, I kept thinking to myself, “why am I here? Why do I always buy so many books? My whole reason for this trip was to buy books, of course I bought so many!”. Their voices became louder as they passed the books around and scanned a page here and there. They were getting even more angry when they noticed one book in particular and kept glancing back at me. As they passed that book around one guard yelled something and he threw the book down on a desk. The feeling in the small room got worse. I…

  • Poetry

    How a Man Feels a Woman

    By Allen Ginnett     I can feel them, Like they can feel me. All so beautiful, so sensitive. Glossy eyed, full of thoughts And ideas, that I, a man Would never think of. They are everything, We are not, And vice versa. To some they are vice, So very nice… I’m numb to your eyes, I cry. She’s beautiful. When she’s mean, she’s means And when she’s lean, she leans. She cares so much more Then I’ll ever know. She’s scared, I wonder… Will I ever grow? And to think, Like a clock… Another second, minute, hour, They all pass by. The closer you are, The more my mind…