Author Alyssa Vigorito

All of my friends have new dead matter And I have an apt. with crumbs & staphylococcus aureus on the floor, cabinets stained by red subtle drops, dishes I foster / an apt. without table space to...

Bloom, love Bloom on days when I have dehydrated skin, like leather— you remind me we’re not all in ruins, and   we’re cellophane wrapped around hard candy / sunrises that cast...

Mount Everest isn’t the tallest mountain in the world. Your backbone is. The doctors spent a decade fixing your scoliosis.   You hang yourself out to dry by your fingers, only ceasing...

I stand at winter’s edge and plead for sun; New England days of wintry light conceal what warmth was present—now just slim to none. The clouds do swell and all the lakes congeal, cadet blue-sky that...

"Demon King" by John Leske '19, treasurer for the Art Club. According to Leske, he found inspiration for this piece online. "Fred Jones Breaks Neck on Pumpkin" by Alyssa Vigorito '19, member of the...

The drive was the very worst, Under canopies of trees it was evident our quiet conversation was clearly coerced   Flowers we nurtured together died of thirst and left behind petals soaked...

One drummer Plays in his one-man golden gate garage band on an askew street Cymbals echo for several blocks   My father yearns to question tourists, though If he says “I am like...

Sunday, Sunday, SUNDAY. It was Sunday, meaning every hour on the hour is cheers-o-clock. Let’s drink. I really needed to pop a bottle anyway, and luckily there was a sealed one waiting for me in the liquor...