Welcome to Labrys, your student-run art and literature collective of Smith College.

“The city is like poetry: it compresses all life, all races and breeds, into a small island and adds music and the accompaniment of internal engines.” —E.B. White

First step: a raindrop,
my head throbs to the subway’s heartbeat.

Second floor windows barred,
campus cop sits at his fake wood desk.
The boys keep the toilet seats up.
The wall’s white paint is stripped,
the single soft thing here is a wine cork.

Shrieks sound on the square.
Dim light,
electric light,
all around people step.
Stars on stage,
tourists snap a shot of thick old paint.
Sun melts through golden Tiffany glass,
diamonds glisten on fifth avenue,
creamy clouds of vanilla dough slice right through.

I think I like it
(when the sky reminds me that blue exists).