Kiosk

The Conversion of 1967 // Steve Coyne

Dreaming of Vintage by Devyn Reilly
Dreaming of Vintage
Devyn Reilly // Mixed Media

When my sole came loose
on a street in New York
and began slapping the sidewalk
like Bozo, Clarabelle, Chaplin, 
my flat-topped friends stood off.
We had ditched school,
piled into the Chevy, 
and driven across Jersey
to NYC for the day.
But now they were gone,
drifting up the sidewalk
while I fished in trash cans 
along the curb until I caught 
shiny wire from a dead bouquet
and wound it around to bind
my sad sole. I tried to catch
my friends again, but I was 
a boy limping along like a bum,
and I lost them in the press
of St. Mark’s Place, where I hobbled, 
weird in my wired shoe,
and no one asked me for change,
and no prostitutes wanted a date.
It was if I had dropped through 
some grate in the world.
That’s when a long-hair 
sitting on the sidewalk
gave me the victory sign.
“Hey silver-shoe,” he cooed,
                              “that is completely cool.”


Author:

Steve Coyne

Stephen Coyne taught American literature and creative writing at Morningside College for thirty years. He is past faculty adviser for Kiosk and proud to be included in its pages.

Artist:

Devyn Reilly

I’m Devyn Reilly from Fountain, Colorado. I’m a freshman majoring in Graphic Design and minoring in Business Administration. I have always loved art because for me it is the best way to express myself.

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Celebrate // Stephanie Divis

Once Inn a Lifetime by Toryn Kelley
Once In a Lifetime
Toryn Kelly // Oil

Daddy! I’m a dad!
“It’s a Boy” cigars.
Drinks flow.  DUI.


Author:

Stephanie Divis

Since 2006, I have been a writing consultant at Morningside, but these pieces would not have been birthed without Steve Coyne and my peers in Creative Writing Fall 2019.

Artist:

Toryn Kelly

Toryn Kelly double majors in Secondary Special Education and Art Education while also producing artwork on a commission basis from her art business Facebook page, Toryn Does Art.

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‘click’ // Madelynn Stoffle

 The Orwellian Truth by Abby Koch
The Orwellian Truth
Abby Koch // Mixed Media

nothing
numb
insomniac
cold
tired 
foggy 
‘click’
Fury.
Fuming.
Fighting.
Punching.
Smacking.
Scratching.
Screaming.
Cursing.
‘click’
My sobs echo
with each painful 
recollection.
I choke my wicked throat,
I pinch and twist, and pull 
reenacting their pain
‘click’
no, no please tell me
It didn’t no, please no
It happened again
I tried so hard 
not to let it happen
but I can tell.
It’s in the way they
carefully smile,
softly whisper,
and their
fearful touches,
and cautious eyes
Everything a haze
It begins before I notice,
Somedays are better
many are worse.
I feel as though
I am a flickering light
bright and beautiful
one second, but then
drowning despair
but the worst is the anger
My head in a frenzy
I fight it
I try to keep it inside
No matter what
it boils over.
I lose complete control.
I scream and scream
trying to shake
myself awake but
alas nothing works.
Nothing stops it
The cycle repeats
and repeats.
On days like today
the good shines
through regardless.
I feel good
and I am happy
truly happy
and
‘click’


Author:

Madelynn Stoffle

Poetry has always been her strongest area in writing and her favorite outlet. Madelynn normally works with horror or emotionally eliciting concepts: such as love or mental health.

Artist:

Abby Koch

I’m Abby Koch and I’m a junior from Sioux City, Iowa. I am studying graphic design and mass communication and I hope to get an amazing job after college. If not, I’ve decided to raise alpacas or become a professional spoonman. Whatever really floats my goat.

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