Dylan Rossi

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Articles

  • vicarious

    rain licks its
    lips on
    the pane.

    splinters
    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
    howling

    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