ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Editor in Chief: Tina Monje Associate Editor: Mary Klecker Poetry Editors: Patrick Werle 8c Rowan Smith Prose Editors: Michelle Devens 8t Lia Jacobson Art Editors: Emily Bauermeister St Joe Vokracka Layout Editor: Joe Vokracka Faculty Advisor: Cary Waterman Cover Art: Lia Jacobson... Show moreACKNOWLEDGMENTS Editor in Chief: Tina Monje Associate Editor: Mary Klecker Poetry Editors: Patrick Werle 8c Rowan Smith Prose Editors: Michelle Devens 8t Lia Jacobson Art Editors: Emily Bauermeister St Joe Vokracka Layout Editor: Joe Vokracka Faculty Advisor: Cary Waterman Cover Art: Lia Jacobson Jens Pinther (guest editor) Augsburg Day Student Government English Department Faculty Art Department Faculty Augsburg Echo Printed by lvy Arts Copy & Print Bound by Smart Set Digital Design & Print Show less
Not have on my hands From when I fell to my knees Because you left us in this whirl And every fucking day I wonder what would have happened If. And what ifyou were my own younger sibling Who lives? What ifI knew you Before you died Better than I know you after. We are well-acquainted But you... Show moreNot have on my hands From when I fell to my knees Because you left us in this whirl And every fucking day I wonder what would have happened If. And what ifyou were my own younger sibling Who lives? What ifI knew you Before you died Better than I know you after. We are well-acquainted But you never heard my name And (sometimes) when I want to Die as loudly and as impulsively As you did I think of you And how your very last action On this wide earth Out of thousands, millions ofgoodness before it, Was a mistake. Show less
soldiers. 'lhey passed out ofsight, but the last soldier stopped in front of Margaret’s house. Margaret immediately jumped up and pointed the gun at him. “We don’t want no trouble!" Margaret shouted. The soldier waved for the two ofthcm to follow. “Here What I said.> Move along!" Margaret yelled... Show moresoldiers. 'lhey passed out ofsight, but the last soldier stopped in front of Margaret’s house. Margaret immediately jumped up and pointed the gun at him. “We don’t want no trouble!" Margaret shouted. The soldier waved for the two ofthcm to follow. “Here What I said.> Move along!" Margaret yelled again. William stood up and told the soldier to keep moving, but the soldier stood waving. Margaret took a step forward, cocked the gun, and gave the soldier a final warning. When he didn't move, she fired. William grabbed the gun from Margaret and shouted at her, but she was staring wide-eyed at the soldier. Margaret was a good shot. Hcr daddy taught her to sh00t with a shotgun when she was six years old and Jack taught her how to shoot many different guns after Dam Day. She never missed. But the soldier was still standing at the bottom of her stairs, waving. Margaret could see a small hole above the soldier’s decorations smoking. “1 shot you," Margaret said as she slipped out ofWilliam's hands and down the steps. She tumbled down the stairs, landing face first on the dirt path, and scrambled up to the soldier. “I shot you!" she cried. William was halfway down the stairs, knife in hand, when the soldier waved frantically at the road. Margaret grabbed the soldier‘s hand and asked why he wouldn’t speak, but her hand slipped off. When she went to grab the soldier again, Margaret saw her own hand was covered in blood. She looked at William who had walked around the soldier and was looking at the back of his head. “What is it?“ Margaret cried. William pulled offhis hat and felt the back ofhis own head. “Margaret, we have to go," said William. Margaret asked where they had to go. The soldier started back down the road. “We have to go," William said again, looking down at Margaret's stomach. Margaret followed his eyes down and gasped. She gently pulled at the fabric on her dress to reveal the large tear across her abdomen. Show less
SHADOW Quinci Bachman A figure looms out of the corner of my eye—perhaps a gonc- ~ wicked smirk is both the figure's and mine. An air malevolent. valiant. yet perfunctory all the same. We charge fomard. teeth I am grit. A man turns the dim-lit corner——bad decision. We come 31°":- for him. 'lhunck,... Show moreSHADOW Quinci Bachman A figure looms out of the corner of my eye—perhaps a gonc- ~ wicked smirk is both the figure's and mine. An air malevolent. valiant. yet perfunctory all the same. We charge fomard. teeth I am grit. A man turns the dim-lit corner——bad decision. We come 31°":- for him. 'lhunck, thunek. rhunck. thunck. [F W UDI! Who else ‘3" I blame? We stop before him, arms stretched. hands grasped around his neck. l want to be sorry. but the rage is stronger. We pull him around by his neck. hands release. hands cleneh. nl‘uhmp! Fwapl Tunk.’ T a c h ft!“ He's on the ground. And. we stand together. I look at the looming figure. asking. “Why?” It falls out my mouth. as if pleading. I look down at the man. and the figure and I both loom over him. arms reaching to him once more and we drag him across the concrete sidewalk. His teeth scrape the ground. scraping away layer ofenamel by layer ofenamel. Thunmhk! A crack in the sidewalk. S e h r e e e t h ll Blood seeps. skin blistering. l look down at him once more and we come to a deadening understanding. A hotly. Lights out. No one's home. He's gone—a body. 'lhe blood quickly coagulatcs. gathering together like a final plea only to be brushed off. unwanted to the soulless. l am filled with regret. I run to his side. wiping away as much blood as I can with my bare hands. This isn‘t how it should be. Blood was never intended to meet the outside layers ofthc skin. I shake him. I shake the body. It's too late. I try to look back at the looming figure once more. asking. “Why?” 22 Show less
"Twenty two.” 'Shiiiiiiit. That's one over on medium. You getting sent to max. Your ass going to Stillwater." Stillwater. Sounds nice but isn't. They come in the morning, faces sagging pockmarked skin the color ofCheetos simmering behind their dark blue uniforms, replete with sergeant stripes and... Show more"Twenty two.” 'Shiiiiiiit. That's one over on medium. You getting sent to max. Your ass going to Stillwater." Stillwater. Sounds nice but isn't. They come in the morning, faces sagging pockmarked skin the color ofCheetos simmering behind their dark blue uniforms, replete with sergeant stripes and the authority vested in their vests. Hammy hands carrying chains and locle that strip me down and hang me from a rope ofsand and then I’m in a paddy wagon. just like on the TV, just like what was on the TV when she screamed, but it wasn't my fault. fato profogus. fan profugus... I sit next to Randy and listen and he describes eternity. His hands curl like melting clam shells and claw at his chest drawing blood as he speaks. Meaning doesn’t hold in here. it's made of a wooden wire and Donne was wrong no man's death diminishes me for I am an island and my ears have been cut and 1 cannot hear the bell toll. From waiting in jail to waiting in prison hurry up and wait and hurry up and wait. Faro Profugus. didn't ask for this never asked for this. Sing oh ye muses of the wrath of An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Weighted scales of gilded mrdboard and justice isn't blind and it knows I told a lie. I don't want to be here I don't want to be here I don’t want to be here I don't want to be here I don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Tinsel toned voice. Jesus speaks through cell block speakers. scratching his way through wires and switches and tells me to stand up because it's time for count. New day, or different day. new place. but not really. not really. Abandon all hope ye who enter here. Spiderman. the CO with the gazelle legs pulls the break. The gears slide. a well oiled drill. result of much practice. Teutonic in it's precision. The gears trip the metal locks. the bar doors slide open. lt's loud and sounds like breaking. it sounds like when theTV was pulled from the wall and then she was breaking. but not my fault. not my fault. can’t be my fault. But I'm not afraid. can't be afraid, fear is the mind killer. that's what my student told me when he was halfway in his cups and before they took me and made my name into a number. But the students are gone. replaced with savage tribes l8 ofGauls and Crips but I'm not afraid. can't be afraid. far is the mind killer. it calcifies and makes the mind brittle, ready to break, break like her neck when the glass and plastic came down and made an end. Not my fault, but (isn‘t think of fault. fault leads to fair. Remove the fear. pay the witch doctor for his metaphysiml surgery and never mind if he stetilizes his instruments because I‘m not afraid to die l say again l am not afraid to “It's a neeeeew daaaay." they‘re yelling again. won't shut the fuck up, stuck in seg and Still won’t shut the fuck up with the yelling and the fucking and the god damn monkey bars. I'm trying to do my bid, just do my bid. parole in 10. 15 or was it 20? Don't remember, something about good behavior. ain‘t stop to think/remember. can't stop to fur/regret just pay the witch doctor. pay the witch doctor. Good cellie though always good to have a good cellie. Best oellie yet. better than Catfish and Nutin' Nice. both bastards. spit on the floor, steal my commissary. saw the Fucker eating my Ramen noodles. Break his fucking face. break his flicking face. make him choke on his broken teeth. Gor sent to the hole. him to the hospital. lost good time. 10 years now or 50? Faro profugus, exiled to a desert ofconcrete lattice work. My mind is soft. nothing stays. But I'm hard. I say it to try out the word and feel it's corners. Cellie looks up. puts down the Steven King with the peanut butter on the cover. “Hard?” Shakes his head. doesn't agree, “Naw man, this world we be livin’ in. shit is soft. Aint got no edges. Aint no ends. no beginnings, just one thing into the next. You put your hand down on it. try to make your mark. but soon as you let go, shit just fills right back up. like you was never even there. We livin' in foam in here man. we livin' in foam." He rolls back over. Lazarus exhausted from the effort of rising. back into the soft world of paperbacks and commissary. But I can be hard. the mind must stay soft. but I will be hard. for l've paid the witch doctor. I will be an unfeeling. an unsoft. a blaring klaxon full of sound and fury. signifying nothing. Show less
Augsburg College Undell Ubrary Minneapolis. MN 55454 Dear Reader: Welcome to the 39th issue of Murphy Square. Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine since 192‘). but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since I975. The writers and artists in this 2014 issue join all... Show moreAugsburg College Undell Ubrary Minneapolis. MN 55454 Dear Reader: Welcome to the 39th issue of Murphy Square. Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine since 192‘). but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since I975. The writers and artists in this 2014 issue join all those published over the past 85 years in continuing the traditions ofexcellence in the arts at Augsburg. We hope you enjoy! Cary Waterman Murphy Square Faculty Adviser Show less
Wisconsin on the night train had warned me ofthat, Franct ca. \\'e‘d met on the crowded. dingy platform ofthe Mumbai train station. “\Vatch my bag while I go pee. will you?" was the first thing she‘d said to me. “You know where [0 find me." After her breasts and her culturally insensitive tight... Show moreWisconsin on the night train had warned me ofthat, Franct ca. \\'e‘d met on the crowded. dingy platform ofthe Mumbai train station. “\Vatch my bag while I go pee. will you?" was the first thing she‘d said to me. “You know where [0 find me." After her breasts and her culturally insensitive tight leggings. the first thing I noticed had been those red bumps on her skin. Poor girl. Cute. too. Big smile with those plump lips and wide eyes. mousy brown hair. But she wore her bedhug bites that covered her arms and legs like badges. She hadn‘t been back from the toilet for five minutes before she was telling me about how much her crotch itched. where the bedbugs had congregated in greater numbers, “Dirty. infested sheets at a cheap guesthouse are to blame. The bad ones never change their hedding.‘~ she said as we boarded the train. “\\'atch otit for those.“ It was sexy. the way she‘d said it without laughing. smiling though. and looking at Inc out ofthe corners oflier eyes. \\'e talked about our travel plans. \\'hat to see. \\'e compared Lonr'h' Plane/5 and flirted by exchanging college stories "keggers at old houses and halluci- nogens in the quad. American education. She was on her way to .\Ianali. Mont: with her bites. she showed me her callused hands and feet. crusty and weathered like pieces ofdried mango. Before I knew what I was doing I was rubbing her hands in tnine. feeling the hard. scaly skin on my fingers. She was a true traveler *one who didn‘t need shoes or hand lotion. She belonged in India. The wild expatriate with hands and feet made of leather. (firm/(ed. Her green eyes got even sweeter after we‘d shared that hash cigarette in between the train cars. near the bathroom. \\'e made fun ofthe improvised squatter toilet as we smoked. The thing was simply a hole in the floor ofthc train. hanging over the edge ofthe tracks a toilet bowl ofrushing gravel and railway. “\\'ouldn‘t want to fall into [/1111 toilet." she said as she as she blew smoke through her nose. India rushing by us in the humid. hazy night. \\'e laughed so hard that she dropped theJ as she tried to pass it to me. Something had happened after the spicy. Hitnachal I’radesh hash. made from cannabis grown in the foothills ofthe Himalayas. worked on our brains. and suddenly we couldn't stop staring at each other there on the platform between cars. She led me back into the train. to my cot in the sleeper car. She knew right where it was. \\'e would have ripped the damp clothing from each other backs like savages. but the curtains on the cot would not close all the way and our feet. though mine not as crust as hers. stuck ottt into the aisle. Not to mention we were sharing the car with a family ofBangladt-shis with six children. So instead, we read Rushdie to each other out loud. trading the .lltt/nig/il't (flu/[Inn and my headlamp back and forth all night. whispering the words into each other s cars and scratching her bedbug bites together, I traced them with my lingers and counted them. I got to 73 before I gave up the charade. “Four hands are so much better than two." she whispered. laughing quietly as I scratched the nape ofher neck with my fingers and teeth. “ed promised to meet in Calcutta in a week. I could write about het Francesca Focus. man! The night train is its own story, It will be written. But tonight is Diwali in Delhi. in one 0fthe most densely populated parts ofthe old part oftown. I need to get it down. This is why I had come. \Vith luck I could catch it. But how could I possibly give a voice to this most sprawling. noisy and polluted city "this most unhinged city in the worldl’ I give up for a time and fish through my backpack again to find my cigarettes. my pack ofSury' '. the local brand. I smack them against my palm to pack them. and walk out toward the balcony. Unlocking the chain with my key and pushing open the reluctant screen door. re\ Is the panorama ofMy India. There. on the sinalljut of crumbling concrete sits a plastic chair with a good 65 Murphy Square Show less
ICE FISHING Ellery Da'uis l's‘ually. the needle ix' inserted into the inside ol‘the elbow, whieh houses a hub of major ilt't‘ oldie skin‘ This time. I remembered to ask the eireul.’tlory interseetionx (lose to the sur nurse ilihe wouldn‘t mind putting the l\' in my forearm instead‘ not wanting a... Show moreICE FISHING Ellery Da'uis l's‘ually. the needle ix' inserted into the inside ol‘the elbow, whieh houses a hub of major ilt't‘ oldie skin‘ This time. I remembered to ask the eireul.’tlory interseetionx (lose to the sur nurse ilihe wouldn‘t mind putting the l\' in my forearm instead‘ not wanting a bent elbow to low the liattle to a straight needle yet again, 'Jel‘lithe nurx‘e lost the vein. like some people lose their place while reading The surface revealed no leadx'. lalie or other“ ise. Mere millimeters underneath. my vein dodged his needle like rererxe magnetizaiionulefl‘s eyes shifting across my forearm with an urgency that his \‘oiee didn‘t betray 215 the drip ol‘hlood dwindled and stopped in the yaeuum tube. The surlaee ol'my skin lh’h derided to li‘ame the turbulence that oeeurred under the x'urtar e. There ix’ a frozen pool ol‘purple and yellow that Iookx‘ like a morbid tattoo‘ It has already begun to melt. 16 Murphy Square Show less
Dear Reader: \\'eleome to the 3(3th issue (il‘hlurphy Square! Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine sinre 1929, but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since [975. The writers and artists in this 2011 issuejoin all those published over the past 82 years in continuing... Show moreDear Reader: \\'eleome to the 3(3th issue (il‘hlurphy Square! Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine sinre 1929, but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since [975. The writers and artists in this 2011 issuejoin all those published over the past 82 years in continuing the tradition oliexcellenee in the arts at Augsburg. Read and enjoy! (larv “'aterman Murphv Square Advisor Murphy Square would like to congratulate the winners and honorable mention ofthe 20H Engman Auard for exeellence in creative writing: \Yinners in F- ‘on: .lllt’lyJUlH‘NmZ "Old Things“ 'l'etl Conover: “Dance ol‘the Sharptail" \\'inner\' in Creative Non-Fiction: ‘ltulylohnson: “Mother Loved Turquoise" and “Alass for the Dead" \\'inners in Poetrv: Drew DeUenr-rrt Gav .‘\Ian “all-ting" and “Black Butterflies" lilix'e Estrada: “Fur” and “Holiday ‘ Sammie (lurk: “The Delphinium" Honorable Mention in Fietion: \ Dustin Heme: “Snow in Translation" Marilyn P£1('l{t‘lt “\Ve (Ian \Yalk Through a Corner" Honorable Mention in Creative Non-Fiction: \ Erie Moen: “l was at \\'tit)l§lot‘k“ ~Jayne Carlson: “No Regular Postrard" Honorable Mention in Poetrv: Belx'v Collins “it would be time for blooms" J11) ne Carlson' “Sestinas are \\'eird“ Dustvn Hessi “Big \\'ords“ 6 Murphy Square Show less
GAY MAN WALKING Drew DeGennaro You \mrc your testis like a badge around the lhighs your Nick was a gun used for doggy style six I hntc (Times the kind that kill lhggois like maggots plL’Zh‘L‘ ask. do tell yell il loud and proud I wear \s‘nmcifs undvrpanis weep and slow danu‘ and sing show Iunvs... Show moreGAY MAN WALKING Drew DeGennaro You \mrc your testis like a badge around the lhighs your Nick was a gun used for doggy style six I hntc (Times the kind that kill lhggois like maggots plL’Zh‘L‘ ask. do tell yell il loud and proud I wear \s‘nmcifs undvrpanis weep and slow danu‘ and sing show Iunvs please hair me because my balls haw not dropped on Hirmhima forgive me Crimes lot mo live like real boys do lake us ()ul of cunu-ntralion camps so we can Slrt‘ll‘l] our legs 13 Murphy Square Show less
THE CASUALTY SPEAKS Dustyn Hessie l’ut me on the ground \\l1('l'(‘ the surlat‘e is a busy skirmish of blood burgeoning on e\'il faces. Nothing will replace this madness not even grief. There are no compliments where the bombs have fallen,just evidence. l'he Man has spoken. i\nd the Man will have... Show moreTHE CASUALTY SPEAKS Dustyn Hessie l’ut me on the ground \\l1('l'(‘ the surlat‘e is a busy skirmish of blood burgeoning on e\'il faces. Nothing will replace this madness not even grief. There are no compliments where the bombs have fallen,just evidence. l'he Man has spoken. i\nd the Man will have his war. \\'omt-n \\ ill dress up tonight they'll fight too. 'lihey‘ll rover their body and late in sand and send their children to school before they leave to keep our nation‘s bullet in its atomic embraee ol‘death. 'l'he “omen have spoken. 'l‘hey will not rr)’. l’oor people from our forgotten eonrrete slums will find that final desperate grasp nl‘ash. 'l'htw' \\ ill storm their dry indifferent feet up the sudden rhuiwolh‘mnmand and pay their bills: their rhildren will not starve tonight. They will \lt‘t‘l) not knowing Dad and Mom Dad and Mom may die tonight ,\nd burn in their t’liiltlren‘s imaginations. 62 Murphy Square Show less