Dylan Rossi

Class of


  • vicarious

    rain licks its
    lips on
    the pane.

    in my floor are
    dandelions in

    this storm.
    an old man
    and his new cane.

    half asleep
    in the black maw
    of a half dreamt

    demon. red
    alarm blurs and

    when i wake.
    death fasts in the sun
    and one

    Pillbox | September 19, 2022
  • one poem from Jen, another from Dylan

    to my grandmothers, who I hope never read this (a sestina variation)
    By Jennifer Bortner

    whenever I see candles, I am your little one again
    holding hands in a synagogue of blue velvet
    I’m wearing red ribbon pigtails and sequins
    at the altar, a man cuts golden bread with sharp silver
    and raises a rusted glass lined with gibberish
    I am not good at being Jewish

    Pillbox | May 2, 2022
  • 'I'm tired': an ode to STEM majors' garbage schedules

    When I was eight, I wanted to be a mad scientist. What that entailed specifically, I didn’t know. I dreamt of rocket ships soaring through the solar system and mixing mysterious chemicals in flasks — there would be an explosion and my hair would poof up just like on TV. I would wear a pristine white lab coat, and freely roam my creepy basement, sparks flying in the background.

    Forum | April 25, 2022
  • 'Bridgerton' baddies and the girlboss era

    Disclaimer: this article includes spoilers for seasons 1 and 2 of “Bridgerton.” Please proceed with caution. You have been warned.

    Dear gentle reader,

    Forum | April 11, 2022