Issues

Carpool

In Issue 01: In Transit

Zainab Mahdi

The streets were eternal back thenback when back seat was a canopy of armsstretched out like the solsticethe thump of tire on chewed cementjolting the deviance from feeble bodiesMomma was no pilot, bu... Read more

Yusuf

In Issue 01: In Transit

Zain Bandali

trapped in a moving trainknee to knee with an archangel sun radiating off sandy complexionmanicured stubble lining jawline sharp and effortlesstaste of blood floods to my mouth Ya Khaaliq, You are the... Read more

Acknowledging the Land

In Issue 01: In Transit

Terre Chartrand Trisha Abe

Land acknowledgments are at risk of becoming quotidian; it’s now standard for Canadian litmags to include one on their inside cover. We wanted to be more intentional in our acknowledgment of the land by featuring a mural co-designed by Indigenous and Western artists. We wanted Indigenous youth to respond to the question: “how do you want settlers to acknowledge the land?” This mural was held on display at 220 King St West for a week, and now resides at the Pins and Needles Fabric Company on Fredrick Street. This collaboration is just the beginning: we will continue to stand in solidarity with Indigenous peoples on this land and internationally. While remaining open to critique so that we may continue to grow, we hope our mural provides a model for how truth and reconciliation can be realized through the arts. Read more

Moose

In Issue 01: In Transit

Anonymous

From the fourteenth floor, you can see how much has changed down at King and Victoria. The skyline is filled with condos. But also, along the plateau of the train tracks: a patch of hill, a shopping c... Read more

Remind Them

In Issue 01: In Transit

Shama Saleh

Colour: forever reside in my blood will keep me on holy ground colour that lived war inside of her. War: the goodbye kisses, tangible on cheek three years on nothing left to go back too. Hom... Read more

Treatment

In Issue 01: In Transit

Anonymous

It’s six am, I didn’t sleep, I got a dozen phone calls on my cell. She’s ready for treatment. “I’ll meet you at eight,” she said. So I made the phone calls. I fo... Read more

Cerasee

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Omi Ra

“Dawn! Come put on yuh shoes!” Dawn’s mother exclaimed from the kitchen, a small room at the back of the house where a portable kerosene stove and a tall eggshell white fridge fed the family of ... Read more