PoetrE"A ball of pop culture...""Scraps""Nine Minutes to Kill""A Cold Winter's Night""Dank""Chomsky""Circe""The Last Straw""Awakening""Summer Days""Without You""Love:Hate""Little Girls""Sophie, Sofie, Sophee""Honey""It's Better Left Unsaid""Untitled""Just Another Face""'Commuter Parking 9:00am""Don't Give Up Now""'She, Gone""Light in the Darkness""The Forbidden""Unforgotten""Dance Lessons"

"Closing My Eyes""The Ride""Room 411"

Michelle CouttsDiana SpiegleRoger McMordnChris GallucciDominic Rauti

Jennifer DaigleMichelle Coutts

Monica AanoreRyan Lair

S.K.M,Nancy ProvodDiana FraoneMegan AllenSuzanne MaNeMouica AmoreChris Gosselin

"The Jet Propelled Couch"

"A Winter's Theme"

Short Stories

Danielle RuestDominic RautiSuzanne MahleKatie FaronLesley MarinoNick AurestoKristin KossackD.E.M.Kathryn GrottNicole BuswellMichelle CollinsRaquel LeusnerKathryn GrottRegina FramularoSuzanne MahleCassandra PerezD.E.M.Michelle CollinsCharlise RoperCassandra PerezRegina FramularoRosa NievesSuzanne MahleDominic RautiMonica Amore

Joyana PetersAlfison MansfieldChristina McKitish

Daniel Newton

Musical CompositionMichael Mitaly

Photography

Drawings

Charcoal

Paintings

13, 367,1i20, 27313848

2312, 33353746

2840

2637

1236789

101617181819212223293031323438394647

42436

41

QuinnipiacUniversity

275 Mount Carmel Avenue

Hamden, Connecticut o6518

// //

When I think about writing I think about my mother's laundry room. The longnights I spent mentally exhausted while ÿ(ÿ]ÿ1ÿ,ÿ1ÿ1ÿ every last drop of creativity frommy brain took place literally in a pile of soiled clothes. I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a bitof an exaggeration but what is true however, is that I began to write in this exact setting.

Why it seemed at the time an appropriate place to brainstorm ideas, 1 will never know.What I can remember is that I believed it to be every writer's ,!, ÿ:,vÿ for the followingreasons. The fighting could be altered depending upon one's mood, it was a quiet sanctuary

where no one ever interrupted, and the ability to clear one's mind was an easy task (and

that's not because of the countless amounts of cleaning products).

My passion for writing in such a location was an experience I yearned to sharewith someone, and who better but my best friend Kim. She, not having much, if any,

interest in writing was forced by me, her bossy best friend, to pull up a pile of clothes andstart writing. Every few minutes the word "STOP" would escape from my lungs. At thistime, l, imagining myself the next Anne Rice and Kim, hoping her mother would soon callher home for dinner, would verbally share our writing. Neither one of us would voice our

opinions but hearing the other person's thoughts seemed to open more doors into our own

imaginations.

Poetry is a passion that I have been practicing now for six years. 1 often allowmyself to reread the child-like concoctions that I called masterpieces at the time, otherwiseknown as short stories, because it brings a smile to my face. There was a period not longago when I dreamed of being a starving poet. Call me .' z because that's what I was. I

still, nonetheless, desire to one day have my own poetry published in a book entitled, "Free

Verse: The Result of Inhaling Cleaning Products or True Talent?"Choosing to accept the position as Editor-in-Chief of MONTAGE has been one

of the best decisions of my fife. Someone once told me, "One piece of advice Suzanne,

ENJOY YOURSELF!" I can honestly say that I have treasured the stress and laughter thatcomes with this position and I know that it will be carried with me through my flÿture careerand personal life.

I would like to thank the staff for their support and dedication. You have chosento devote as much of your time as any college student is capable of and that alone has

helped me enjoy this position even more than I thought imaginable. Carrying with me theknowledge that I have an endless amount of individuals who wish to help in any way theycan is why the road has transformed itself from rocky to pav0d.

Much applause is directed towards those who have submitted their creative workbecause without your talent this journal would cease to exist. The number of submissions

that were calculated this year is truly unbelievable. I am proud to announce that each year

the number increases dramatically, which can only mean one thing: artists on this campusare growing at an exceptional rate. I myself, am pleased to share this remarkable literary

jourual that expresses the thoughts, opinions, ideas, and, of course, creativity of the Quinnipiaccommunity. I ask that you please take pleasure in reafflng the 2OO4 Spring Edition of MONTAGE.

Always,Suzanne K. MahleEditor-in-Chief

Danielle Ruest

Where do you go if you don't believe?What do you do when you can't perceive?What is your fate if you don't agree?How can you show them what they cannot see?

It's within the truth of history...

It seems to me without a doubtThe channels they can't live withoutThe difference here that I've found outIs truth is what it's all about.

Do you think they'll someday realizeThat their lives are lived through culture's eyes?And if they don't should I empathize?Or simply become demoralized?

It seems that I should get awayInquire again some other dayExplore and find what others sayBut if I can't beat them

S.K.M.

Dominic Rauti

I've got scraps of rhyming phrasesThat express the way I feel.

I've got bleeding tissue on my soulThat I was trying to conceal.

'Cause I tried to be the one

Who would always be around,

And I tried to help you allBut this is what I've found:

That the reason we're all here-

The reason why we fight-Is the reason we can't win-

It's 'cause we will not see the light.

In darkness there's nowhere to turn,

None that anyone can see.

In darkness I could not help you,

But still you turned to me.

You're too blinded by your selfishness-

I can no longer stand your greed.I'm sick of wasting energy,

And of you wanting me to bleed

I will not let you drag me downInto your crimson world.

I will not try to save you,

For too deeply have you burrowed.

So I'll burn these scraps of rhyming words'Cause I hate the way I feel,

And I'll shed these scabs of healing soulThat the light will now reveal.

I can see the light- its beautifulNothing is as it had seemed.

Now I hear the songs and melodiesOf which I never could have dreamed...

2

Suzanne Mahle

The digital clock that my vision is focused onreads 4:42.

I want my pen to complete this poemby 4:51

my brain to listen

Nancy Provod

Joyana Peters

"Bye, I love you too," I said.

I sighed as I hung up the phone."Ok, she's finally out of my hair for awhile. You ready to go?" I

asked.

"Why did you tell your mom there would be no drinking?"Becky asked.

"Because if I told her the truth she never would have let me go. Besides,

l'm always careful. I'm sure l'll only have two or three, wait awhile and then drive

us home. |t's a foolproof plan. I'll sneak in and go straight to bed. She'll never

know," I answered.

"I don't know 'bout this," Becky said.

"Well you can back out now if you want, but I'm going," I responded. Becky

sighed heavily, but got up and followed me out the door. We blasted the music thewhole way to the party and sang along to our favorite songs. Becky soon began to

loosen up.

We got to the party and saw all of our friends in the corner. The place was

kickin. The music was blasting and lights were strung about. There was a huge keg

in the middle of the backyard. Todd, the kid having the party, was making mixeddrinks at a makeshift bar in the back corner. People were already buzzed. Becky and

I decided to jump in and catch up. An hour and two mixed drinks later, Becky and Iwere giggling with two guys from another school. Our other friends were alreadyhooking up with three other guys, under the trees. The party was really rolling now.

People were starting to strip down to their boxers, bras and underwear, and jumping

into the pool. The guys with Becky and I suggested joining in. Becky and ! looked ateach other and laughed. Why not?

Two hours, a beer and two more mixed drinks later, I was sitting dripping

wet and half naked, on some guy's lap, feeling pretty good. Becky was missing and

come to think of it, I wasn't quite sure where my other friends were either. Oh well,

I had made another one, I thought, as 1 leaned over to kiss the guy again.

Two hours and two more beers later (l had to stow down to one drink an

hour, to sober up), I saw my ex-boyfriend walk in and thought, " O h

great". I was dry again at least, but I was still in my bra and underwear. I looked

around the party and realized I was not the only one. When had the party gotten so

out of control? Poor Todd. The yard was trashed. People were throwing beer cups

and things everywhere. Clothes were being thrown in the pool, along with people. 1

realized that drunken people in a pool might not be a great idea. The music was stillblasting and for the first time in a while, I looked at my watch. Wow, was it reallytwo a.m. already?

"Hey," 1 looked up. It was my ex.

"Hi," I said and tried to stand up, succeeding, while only

slightly tripping."I saw your car out front. How are you planning on getting

home?" he asked.

"I'm driving," I answered.

4

"Oh, no you're not! You're trashed," he said.

"!amnot[ You have no right to come over here and start with

me. We're not together anymore," I answered.

"We might not be together, but I still don't want to see you

drinking and driving, and getting into an accident," he replied.1 started to walk away from him. I gathered my clothes. The party was definitelygoing to suck now that he was here. I was ready to go. l started to call for Becky

who was coming out of the house.

"We're gonna go now ok'?" I asked her. She nodded and went

to grab her bag. I started to dress myself, when he came

walking over to me.

"Seriously, where are your keys? 1'11 drive you home," he said.

"And how would you get home? This is rediculous. I'm fine,"I

answered.

Becky came out and we walked over to the car. He followed us and started

grabbing at my hag. Becky was leaning on my car completely wasted.

"What are you doing?" I screamed.

"Trying to save your life," he replied.

"1 am driving home myself!" I screamed.

I got into the car and locked the door."He is unbelievable," 1 said to Becky.

I turned on the car and started to pull out. While driving down the street Ichecked my rearview mirror, and saw him driving behind me. I realized he was

following me home.

"Unbelievable," I said and slammed down the accelerator. 1 tried to lose

him. I was nearing the main road. I didn't even see the headlights coming at me

on the driver's side. The car must have been going about seventy miles per hour

with my combined seventy or eighty miles.We went flying. My car flipped in the air and landed on the driver's

side. I saw his face peering through the windshield and heard him screaming myname. 1 saw him standing in front of my car, calling 911 on his cell phone. That's

all 1 remember before closing my eyes to the darkness.

I woke again to a bright light and hearing people counting to three. 1felt myself being moved, but I couldn't move my body. I saw him standing next to

me along with doctors and paramedics. I realized I was in the ER. He was crying

and holding my hand. I felt him squeeze it. 1 wanted to squeeze back, but I

couldn't make my hand do it. 1 looked into his eyes. I wanted to tell him I wassorry, and that I still loved him and always would. I think he understood becausehe nodded and mouthed "i love you too". Then the doctors escorted him outside.

Soon after, my eyes closed to the darkness again.

I woke again in a bed with tubes coming out of me everywhere. He was

again sitting next to lne holding my hand. This time I had a tube down my throat.I still couldn't say what I wanted to say.

"I know you love me. I love you too and I hope you know that. i called

your room. She's on her way," he said.

Oh my mother, Ithought. She'll be so disappointed. Then l thought of Becky.Where was she? Was she ok? I looked at him and he saw the fear in my eyes.

"Becky's fine," he said, "barely a scratch on her". "The oncom-

ing car bit and landed on your side."

My mom came running in with the nurses, crying. He got up and left us.

"Oh my baby," she said, patting my face, "I love you so much."

I wanted to tell her I loved her too, and that I was so sorry for disobeying her. Then I heard

a loud buzzer go off next to me. The doctors came running in. I saw his face appear next

to my mother's. I felt his hand holding mine again. I saw them begin to cry and felt theirtears falling on my face. I saw a bright light come towards me and felt nay body beinglifted in the air. I took one last look at their tear-stained faces, and then my eyes closed as

I was lifted into the light. I realized then, this was the last time my eyes would close. Iwould never see their Ioving faces again.

Katie Faron

There he is sitting there.Has no worry, no care.

Smiling, loving life.Stranger to hunger, strife.

Spotless coat, shiny hat.Insulated from cold by fat.

Limbs warmed by a crackling fire.Despite rain, clothes and body soon drier.

She huddles outside.Struggling to hide.Not safe at night.Too weak to fight.

Stares longingly at the fire.day was full of laborsome trial.Fingers frozen, muslces sore.

Starved, beaten to the core.

6

Diana Fraone

Lesley Marino

Ir'l tahgry for something to feel.

Hands touch what they aren't looking for

A smile, a kind word lights up my faceBut does not last

It goes where it once was buriedTired of this gameThat seems everlastingInstead cold is all I senseWhat was lost cannot come back againToo much is felt and none of it is pureNone shines like it seemed it did beforeOnly a shell is leftA shadowThat you seeBut only resemblesWhat I used to be

7

Nick Auresto

I'll focus on nay third eye before I dieand will fly to the edge of the mountainside.

Where I will hide from the missiles that glideI will try to stay alive

In a world where people die to survivebut are denied by the Beast on high.

Human robots with mechanical partsAnd fake hearts

dedicated to watching rampartsthey fall apart with the quakes that they start

And like the big, bad, wolf they blew my house apart.

The rockets red glareand the boms in the air

its not fair to go on living in despairso I sit in my chair and prepare for the bright flareThe White House needs to change their underwear

It gets worse, it might be perversebut I envision myself in a black hearse

while I rehearse what to say in this next verse.

Nothing is worse than finding out you've been cursedWhile their hands are in your mother's purse.

I'd rather be a light-year into the universe,

Where there is no pain and nothing to gainbut disdain for the leaders that reign

for they seek fame and like God they proclaimto disciples under acid rain.

Me? I will never be tame for I refrain.I'd rather ate a train to the past

And be beaten with canes.

Should I pray? I'd rather seize the dayAnd search for truth in a better way.

Try to forget that we're all made from clayMade to betray and use greed in an ugly display.

Now we lay under skies of grey and hope that somedayOur minds will be fit to obey.

Kristin Kossack

I.

It smelled like jasmine there.The scent embraced me like a lover.

You wondered whether honey

would taste as sweet

on my lips.

II.

You fell in love with love,you fool.

I told you she was a whore.

Seductive like lilies,you inhaled a symphony

and choked on the individual notes.

III.

I found you curled upon my shore like a child.

You spoke about howthe sea had stung you,

and the sun had burned you.

I fed you honey.

IV.

I spoke of how yourtears stung me

and your stare burned me.

You fed me honey.

V.

You left.

I can still taste the salt on my lips.

When that love wasn't there

That I had for so longAnd my day had been hard

I just felt so wrong

The last straw that I hadI held onto for weeks

Decided to slipRight out of my reach

The tears poured downMy cheeks caught on fire

My sanity was fakeAll along I was a liar.

No pretending this timeI had no control

And with each gasp of airDeeper and deeper I'd go

I could not see a thingMy head spun aroundAll I knew was that

My nails were clawing the ground

My heart nearly burstRight out of my chestIt was visibly shaking

Underneath my left breast

I had pins and needlesIn my hands and my feetI would wiggle and tryTo make them recede.

At that point I knewThat I wasn't ok

The lies I'd been tellingWere just for my own sake

That straw I'd been holding

10

And squeezing for weeksWas the lie I was fine

No straws are for keeps.

Diana Fraone

11

Diana Spiegle

12

A Winter's Theme

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5

Kathryn Grott

Let the blood run sweetly and release your strifeIt's hot and it's seemingly real

The mirror is reflecting lifeMy reflection suddenly clear

The plane landed and my soul was alert

Tired and aware, the air was crisp but all was warm

Alive with feeling and no longer numb to being hurtIt was as if today was the day I was reborn

3,000 miles and a world at my fingertipsThawed and drenched in achingI could feel my hands, my toes, and my lipsLife is vividly serene and breathtaking

Lost and alone but standing on two feetThe tears sting deeper and the fear is so trueAlive and heart burning with passion and heatA timeless soul, but suddenly brand-new

This is the last song I will ever write about the painit floats away and becomes a vague memorySunshine will follow but first there must be rainIt's so simple can't you see?

Fearing passionately and seeing clearlyAt the breaking point of what can beMy mind is open and seeking eagerlyIt's no longer my choice it is a matter of destiny

Strained with emotion and weary with todayStepping lightlyMy soul no longer astray

Gripping the future tightly

Welcome to the world please check your soul at the doorThis is your room do with it what you pleaseYou'll feel everthing from now on and embrace it right downto the core

You'll laugh and cry, but never forget to breathe

16

Nicole Buswell

The hot grainy sand filters through my toes;

The cool refreshing water glides off my body,

Purifying, purging, extracting all the sins that plague me,

Holding me back.

Diving off the bow of the boat, I'm a dolphin, sleek and

mysterious, Grace describes my movements, one with the

water and the earth.

The water longs for me as I long for its depths of serenity.

My mind floats back to the grayish porch, of which I write,

The gray symbolizing my years, the long wooden planks

slowly breaking down,

Disintegrating back into the earth from which I came.

I too, will slowly disintegrate back into the earth from which i

came

Becoming one with the water again, once again sleek and

graceful, innocent of life's traumas.

Once again I will be full of youth, spending the summer at my

lake house, One with the water, and myself.

17

Michelle Collins

I look in the mirrorWhere your face used to appear

It's just not the same without you here.

The creek of the floorWhere you fell last winterReminds me how clumsy you were.The freezer stocked with freezer-burnt mint chocolate chip,

Proves that you really weren't going to eat the whole pint.

The TV set on your favorite channel,

You always controlled the remote.

Your slippers, neatly set by your side of the bedWith my picture on your nightstand.I kept the same sheets on since the day you leftSo I still feel like you're sleeping with me,And when l sleep, I pretend you're watching me

Because it makes me feel so beautiful.

Raquel Leusner

Living in hate and rolling in lust, my heart breaks. I toss and turn withthe reality that you've got me by the throat. You are no stranger to this

hold. Feelings tender and swollen; I can't escape the hurt. A hunger is

deeply enrooted into my soul; you are tugging at my sleeve in which myheart is neatly placed. I fight your dark touch; you wait for me then preyupon my inner workings. I'm scared that lhavebecomeyou--anonbe-

liever: in love, in life, in myself. Now, to wake is a chore. To deal with

your cruelty is just another day's work. I don't want your empty touch;

its depth is only superficial, yet I can't find reason to let you go. I wantto see your salvation. Emotions are heavy; thoughts bear only images of

you. In time....I hope they fade.

18

Kathryn Grott

Little girls all grown upWounds healed and souls brightenedGrowing separately and growing apartSome standing stillFrozen in the person they have beenComfortable in being blindComfortable to being numb

Life is passing you byThe girls sit and stareKeep dreaming and wiping your tearsDays pass by and the image in your mirror grows olderThe sun rises and sets on forever

Immortality is a phaseFriends forever and forever friendsTime speaks louder than wordsBroken free from the image

Finding your individualityThe faces blur and the tears slowly roll down the cheeks

Once rosy with youthThe puffy pastel colored dresses once wornThe piles of makeup and old CDsLabeled "18" and fell desperately into theshadows

It makes you and it pushes youIt breaks bonds and forms independence

Courage is necessary and a voice must hold onFingers slip down the torn ropeFallen one by one into miniature worlds of

imaginationBroken mirrors and unused pallets

The rooms are quietPictures strewnThe life stings of memories and days of old

19

So young with blank pages aheadAlone but aware

Time passes and leaves changeWisps of colder air blow past your faceYou see what once was and feel the salt dried in lines on yourcheeks

The photo albums fade and dreams are pulled apartIt's indescribable, yet faceable

The window blows shutLeft with the warmth of quiet and the still of tomorrowThe pillow is soft and the tears have slowed.Slipping slowly into uncertainty and wildly into desire.Alive with the arrival of promise.

Megan Allen

2O

Regina Framularo

With the three family members I wenttoa

baseball game.One to change my life, I never really knew.

Forever.

Half way throughthe game,my life

she showed me a lure of lighta pure opening

to heaven,

friendship,youth

expandedto love.

That love she held ever so tightlyin the palm of her little five year old hand.

She grasped on ever so tightlyto the gift I bestowed to her,

a pom pomone I had bought at a previous game.

Love.

She told me I had nice eyesand said the glitter sparkled like the stars.

When really I knew,hers did,not mine.

The light descended from the heavensonto her face,

an angel,I saw...

pure perfectionnever subject to hate.

Only love.Before I had left her, she kissed my cheek,

she puckered her lips and said

21

"goodbye my new friend"

only she did not knowwe would never meet again.

Sophie.i was in love for the very first time.

Sofie.

when unhappy only to hopeto see her again ........ Sophee.

Suzanne Mahle

For seven daysI was allowed

to massage his scalpand whisper in his ear

of memoriesfrom the day before.

For seven daysmy emotions

could be photographedwhile my childhood

emerged throughmy sand-covered fingers.

For seven daysour smiles matched

and our appetitescould be satisfied

with homemade recipes.

For seven daysI could observe his body

flushing awaystressful impuritiesas it turns golden.

On the seventh dayour eyes

22

were forced to unlatchand our spiritsdropped hands.For seven days

my tearswill belong

to him.

Michelle Coutts

Cassandra Perez :

Waiting for an answer to come my way

Hoping not soon, hoping today

So sure of what I want, but confused with frightWhen I talk to you everything seems right.

We stand for truth, your a great friendBut it's my heart I do defend

Certain of everything when you hold meWhat's meant to happen, let it be

23

Allison Mansfield

There was a dead man sitting next to her on the train.

The little girl had become aware of this unsettling fact momentsafter her aunt had jostled their way through the pack of commuters and foundthem the last two seats.

"Aunt Martha--" her voice was timid as she hesitated,

eyeing the man with some trepidation.

The older woman tugged firmly on her wrist, plasticbracelets clacking together.

"Sit. And don't bother that man."

She sat in the hard plastic seat opposite her aunt and turnedher head to look out the window. The scenery whizzed by in the nightair, the ground covered in an ethereal white. The sight of the snow

caused the girl's heart to catch in her throat, and she quickly shiftedher attention to her aunt.

Martha's head slipped sideways, resting against the dirtywall. Tendrils of frizzy red hair poked out from underneath a largegreen hat. She mumbled slightly and shifted, burrowing herself deeperinto a scratchy wool coat. A sickeningly sweet odor of perfume wafted

over.

The little girl looked hard, tried to see any trace of her motherin the woman's pasty, flabby skin. The pug nose was unfamiliar, as

were the thin lips and the bright smear of purple eye shadow.

The face was all wrong. Her mother had always been pretty;

it seemed impossible that this gaudy woman could be any relation atall.

Her eyes longed for something softer, something more fa-

miliar, and she turned her attention to the dead man sitting next to her.

He did not frighten her; she had seen two dead bodies in the past threedays and was well accustomed to their appearance. She found his

silence peaceful.

How nice it would be to close her eyes on the train as this

man had done and slip away somewhere else. Her parents had gone so

horribly, all screams and twisted metal.

24

"It wasn't your fault," Aunt Martha had told her immediately before the funeral.

Those were to be her only words of comfort; she was not by nature a nurturing woman.

The little girl had never believed the accident to be her fault, rather the car wheelshad just slipped a little, the way her boots did when she walked down the icy driveway tothe bus stop.

The dead man next to her had slipped too, but his passage was without theviolence of her parent's final moments. The girl studied his quiet face.

He looked like herJhthei; she realized with ahorrifying suddenness. Her heartleapt against her rib cage and her eyes welled with tears, the first time since the funeral.

This quiet, unmoving man who had sat next to her for the majority of her trip could havebeen her father.

Her eyes scanned his face rapidly, looking for more similarities. The gentle slope

of his pale nose, the rounded chin, the dark hair falling against his brow from underneath

his hat, they were all her father! Images of her father and ones of this man tangledthemselves within her brain until they were indistinguishable.

It was her father. Somehow he had not died in that fiery wreck and had made his

way onto the train to intercept her. She reached out a small hand to touch his, frowning at

how cold it felt.

She had briefly forgotten that the man next to her was dead. A lone tear trickleddown one of her cheeks, and she let it slide without feeling it. She needed to know.

She took her small hand off of his larger one and reached up to his still, silentface. She would tell by the eyes. Her father's eyes were a warm chocolate brown, eyes

that could bathe a person in their glow and keep them feeling safe and warm for hoursafterwards. She wanted to pry open one shut lid and see his eyes, wanted to see them

suddenly come alive again with light and love for her.

Her small fingers danced on his face. His cold skin felt oddly like a slab ofuncooked steak, and for a moment she hesitated. She glanced back at Aunt Martha to make

sure the older woman was still sleeping. Then she carefully pinched the soft skin of hiseyelid between her fingers and lifted.

Blue.

His eyes were flat, cloudy blue. Not her father at all.

This time when the tears welled up she let them course down her cheeks,

sniffling silently. Now that she knew the truth, the man looked nothing like her fatherany more. The cheeks...the lips were all wrong. He was just some unfortunate commuter

who had sat down on the train to head home and hadn't quite made it.

25

She wondered how long he would ride his lonely voyage. Would he

be noticed tonight by some sharp-eyed conductor, or would he continue to

travel for days, perhaps weeks? Did he maybe have a little girl waiting for himto come home?

Her aunt gave a little snort and sat up, her eyes blinking. In thetrain's fluorescent light, her makeup appeared splotchy.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a scratchy tone. "Are you

bothering that man? Leave him alone."

The girl regarded her gravely for a moment before letting her handdrop into her lap. The train hissed as its brakes kicked in, grabbing andgrinding along the steel.

"This is our stop," Martha said to her, standing up and reaching for

the baggage in the overheard compartment.

The girl took the bag, handed it to her wordlessly, her eyes flittingback to the dead man. He was undisturbed by their motions.

"Aunt Martha, that man---" she said suddenly.

"Come on," Martha }nterrupted, leading her into the crowded isle.

The train doors opened, in a rush of cold air.

The girl followed hebehind to ride for as long aÿ

t out into the frozen night, leaving the manmid allow.

26 Monica Amore

Megan Allen

27

Jennifer Daigle

28

When I wake up! look to my right

I see sophomore year filled withInnocence

HappinessBlossoming love

Framed in an orange fabric

I look to my leftI see senior year

With his fresh hair cutAnd my joking smile

Light-heartedness

As spaghetti hangs from his mouthframed in a light blue flower

I look straight aheadI see junior year

His long hairMy light summer tan

As we hold each otherIn our realization

Framed in silverGlimpses of him mixed in with friends

Pictures of our different haircutsSlowly evolving through our dance pictures

Don't go in the closet

Don't open the box

Don't read the letters

His old thoughts come flying at meThey hit me harder with each declaration of love

They rip my heart out with every complimentThey make me shiver with each sweet memory

I wish I'd forgottenHe's in my CD case

He's in my music

On my mindIn my pictures

Out of my grasp.

29

Michelle Collins

It's hard not to get run down

When the one you love isn't there

Cause they're somewhere else,

Forgetting you1 just want to go back

To you,Who took back all that you said would be true

And the regret sets in...

One hundred days can change so littleYou promised me a life spent with you

Now here we are

Face-to-face for the first time

Since you leftI wonder what you're thinking

If you maybe changed your mindI've been waiting 6 goddamn yearsAnd you've led me on every time

I feel bad for falling in love with youBut there was nothing I could do

It hurts just to stand here and look at you.

The way you fill the roomWith that amazing thing you do

I wish I was the oneYou were going home to.People don't understand

Why I feel the way I doThey say it's not right

To be so in love with someone you can't have...

I see you down there

Out of reachI scream hoping you'll hear meYou don't look up, I don't exist

I never thought it would end up like this

I'm just another face in the crowd.

3O

Charlise Roper

Circling...$h a r ÿ-{ÿ'eo

Searching for the nextmorsel.

Waiting...

Hovering...

Squarish, metal masses,

desperate for biped move-

ment.

A place.

A spot.A resting home,

within this paved ÿ'? .

Suzanne Mahle

Watching...

Stalking...

Slowly rolling into action,s m o o t h... silent.., hard.

Presence pushing,

hurrying the intended prey.Quickly walking,

no match for the lingeringstalker.

Emissions,.ÿ-ÿTct;i<ÿ.-out the back end.

Tail-like,PROPELLING through

the packed, metal reef.

Glass eye lowered,"Are you leaving?"

Following, Following, Following...

Walking, Walking, Walking...

31

Thinking, Thinking, Thinking...

Remembering...

...Forgotten...

"Where the hell, I parked my car?"

Cassandra Perez

Without direction, you were my guideAs I reach for your hand, your not on my side

Blinded by light, you taught me to seeNow you can't even look at me

When 1 wanted to sing, you gave me a songNow for every right thing I do, you find three wrong

I could fool the world, but nothing went by youDon't you wish you were a fool too?

Hiding was easy, you made me my maskIt's different now, I'm too hard of a task

As I tripped into a hole, you always pulled me outThe hole was deepened, due to your prevailing doubt

My truth has lied underneath my skinYour part of that skin and everything within

Nothing makes me happy, and your the only one who knows whyLike a biography of fiction or a comedy that makes you cry

These words can't express how much you mean to me,

you need to know that's true

I want to follow in your footsteps, I want to be just like you

And none of this is your fault, you've always lead the wayThe blame is all mine, I took a wrong turn one day

32

Vettriano's "The Purple Cat"

I could understand why you want to give up looking for me now,I'm pretty lost

But your my only hope, please fine me at whatever the cost

It took me a while to realize, I was going the wrong wayI thought my way was shorter, I've learned to listen to what you say

I've bumped into some people on this road, each of them from mypast "

But stories I've told and relationships I've had, I should have known wouldn't

last

You say the solution is easy, just follow the road it's trueYou say it's the only way I could come back to you

You want me to show the real me, starting today

So how about I make you a deal, I'll meet you half way

Because if you hate me for who I really am, I'm afraid to let that side showAnd when you finally find me...you can finally let me go.

33

Regina Framularo

She died...

before my chance to meet her.

She died...

before I could tell her my stories.She past...

goodye chance...

by disease...by open gates.

She past...

good bye hopelessness...bye wondering.

She left...

before she could warm my cold.

She flew...

goodbye hate...

by good...by need.

She flew...

goodbye lonliness...

by wings...by sight.

She came...

She left...

both by love.She died by time...Time's dateless past...

future.

She slept...

before I could sing her to sleep.

She slept...

before I could tuck her in with all arms.She grew...

before I could hope her seed to be watered.

She fell...

before I could help her up.She fell...

before I could see her standing tall.She came, she left...

both by love...

Time's dateless past...

future.

She saw...

before I knew what she wished to see.

She saw...

34

before I had a chance to show her.

She gave...

goodbye self...

by charity...bye desire.

She gave...

goodbye want...

by need...by feeling.She knew...

before I knew her...she knew me.

She knew...

before I knew light...she showed it...

I only...

knew darkness.

She is...

goodbye knowing...

by love...by eyes..

is purity...she is...here...

She is...

goodbye pain...by fate...by true reality...

is my fate...she is...in me.

She came...

back she did...

came...left...

both by love...

Time's dateless past...

PRESENT...HERE...

WITH ME NOW!!!

\,,

r.¢' ,J

3 5 Roger McMorrin

Christina McKitish

Nancy Provod

36

Chris Gallucci

The doctor enters. Words are

ciculating throughout theroom, but my ears are ringingso loud I can only make out

certain things: drunk, car, not

hopeful, pray. These words.

They are swimming throughmy veins. They are slitheringalong with my blood, rubbingthe insides of my flesh. Theyhave now forced my ears

open. The drunk, he rancrooked into the woods. Iwonder if his double visioncould see her lying on the pave-

ment, crumpled like a used candy wrapper. The doctor is talking, butall I can do is picture. Picture his fear, picture the scene.

And so we wait.

Ryan Lair

37

Rosa Nieves

MonicaAmore

There's a light in the darkness...a gleam shining bright,

It's the hope of our friendship in this gloom of the night.We'll cast off the shadows, with our armor of light,Neither you or I will give up; we'll fight with all our might.

I'll be your beacon in the fog, that will help your way,Never giving up...always trying to get you to the bay.In hopelessness and tears I won't let you drown, .

I'll take your burden as mine, and we'll both swim, to be safe and

sound.

You're a part of my family, I hold you as my own,As long as I'm here, you won't be alone.

Don't forget I love you...and I'll constantly care,

Even though I don't say it often...I'll always be there.

There's a light in the darkness...a gleam shining bright,It's the hope of our friendship in this gloom of the night.We'll cast off the shadows, with our armor of light,

38

Suzanne Mahle• :ÿ,// ÿ - ,

) ÿ,]ft l_,ÿw;ÿ'ÿ breaths escape

through the dry mouthof Mr. Quinn's wife.

Visions of ducklingsand white picket fences

blanket her mindas she sleeps.

Mr. Quinn glances

at the gold ropearound his wife's neck

and notices his reflectionin her red reading glasses.

As he takes silent strideshe makes certain

that The Catcher in the Ryecontinues to rise on her rib cage.

The lid of the ceramic jaris lifted

as Mr. Quinn's left hand

graspsthe chocolate covered pretzel.

He ever so gently

places itback on its foundation

while he cautiouslylistens

for his wife's size fives.

Mr. Quinn crawlson his hands and knees

over the Turkish rugmaking sure to stay clear

of the creaky floor boardunderneath.

The leather lazy boyis still a warm temperature

from his two-hundred and fortypound body.

As he rests his fingertipson the arms

and elevates his feetMrs. Quinn awakens

39

Michelle Coutts

40

Daniel Newton

OVER BLACK:ROBERT - V.O.

In his work, moment after moment, an analyst lives intimately with the

human passions. Lust, greed, envy, hate-- the seven deadly sins andmore; love, charity, faith-- the heavenly virtues and all the beatitudes--

these assail him endlessly.

FADE IN:INT. PSYCHOANALYST OFFICE - BALTIMORE. NIGHT

Sparsely decorated and dimly lit, light is seen only as refracted throughthe clouds of smoke in the tiny room.

ROBERT LINDNER, a dark-haired and mustached psychoanalyst in hislate 30s, sits behind his desk gazing off into the middle distance. Hepensively smokes a ciagarette.

His desk is cluttered. A pile of ash is scattered on the desk where theymissed the ashtray.

Robert indulges a deep exhalation and rubs his temples.

He rests his cigarette on the rim of the ashtray. He reaches for thephone, picks it up, then places it back down. He hesitates, then picks upthe received again and dials.

ROBERT(into phone)

Hello...? Hi honey, yeah it's

me...Everything's fine. Yes I know what

time it is...I'm sorry. I got hung up atthe office...may not be home for a little

while...it's OK if y...hello? Hello?

Robert hangs up the phone. He picks up his cigarette and takes a deepdrag. He stares out the window of his office into the Baltimore skyline.

ROBERT - V.O.

Everthing we do takes place in the consulting room.(MORE)

41

ROBERT - V.O. (CONT'D)Activity, movement, is denied to us. The great dramas of which

we partake, the tremendous conflicts, the shattering experiences

-- these come to us, come to the rooms in which we sit and listen.

Eternally we are spectators. One hungers for the distant

use of eyes against horizons rather than walls.

Robert rolls up his sleeves. He lifts up his shirt and pats his stomach.

ROBERT - V.O. (CONT'D)

I contemplated the slow but progressive degeneration of flesh and musclewith angry disgust. The long hours of sitting, the stale air; the flabbinessof arms and legs, the pallid skin tones, the first suggestion of potty bulgebeneath the waistline -- against these and many other minor but telling

symptoms of physical decreptitude I felt helpless and self-rejecting,blaming them, for want of more insight, on the implausible profession

I had chosen to follow.

Robert stubs out his cigarette. He sighs and lights another.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

INT. SAME. MORNING

Sunlight peeks in from the window. Robert slowly wakes, finding aCLEANING PERSON in his office vacuuming and a cigarette between hisfingers with a long, unbroken ash.

CUT TO:

INT. BATHROOM - SAME BUILDING. SAME

Robert flushes his face with water. He runs his fingers through his hair.He stares at his reflection in the mirror.

CUT TO:

INT. OFFICE. SAME

Robert wipes the ash off his desk and takes a seat. The phone BUZZESand he instinctively looks at the clock, it is almost nine. he clicks theline and answers the call.

42

ROBERT(into phone)

Yes, yes it is...who was it that referred you to me?

OK. Washington, eh? And what is the patient's name?

SPLIT-SCREEN - between Robert in his office and anotherdoctor from his office.

DOCTORThe fellow I'm calling you about is a man in his thirties,

a research physicist with us out here.

As far as I can tell, he's perfectly normal in every way

except for a lot of crazy ideas about living part of the timein another world -- on another planet. Maybe this isn't so bad, but the

trouble is he's really 'gone' so much -- if you know what

I mean -- that his efficiency is way below par and theoperation here is suffering because of it.

ROBERTHow did you find out about his ideas?

Did he complain to you -- or what?

DOCTORNo. Allen -- the patient's name is Kirk Allen -- never said a

thing about it. To him, it's all perfectly natural. Of course,

he's sorry about the drop in departmental efficiency.Apologizes all over the place and promises to -- get this! --

ROBERTAnd how did he get to you?

DOCTORWell, Allen's a section chief and the biggest part of his job is

to evaluate and correlate reports of the research people

under him and then send on digests of his section's work todivisional head. His digests kept coming in later and later

and when they did, his boss noticed that not only were they belowstandard for Allen, but some of them were incoherent and

covered with funny symbols or...pictographs, I guess you'd

call them...

ROBERTSo the divisional head called him in?

DOCTORCalled him in for an explanation, only Allen didn't explainmuch of anything. Said the symbols were notes he planned

43

to transcribe into his diaries.

ROBERTWhat have you decided?

DOCTOROnly that I can't handle this. I'm just an ordinary medical man.

When it comes to stuff like this -- psychiatric stuff -- all I know

is I should'nt fool with it. That's why I'm calling you.

ROBERTI couldn't possibly come out there...

The doctor chuckies.

DOCTORWe wouldn't have you if you could... I'm sure you understand...

No;(MORE)

DOCTOR (CONT'D)If you'll agree to take the fellow as a patient we'll get him to you

in Baltimore. Incidentally, we'll be responsible for his fees.

ROBERTWhy don't you use regular government facilities?

DOCTORBecause none are available to us. Allen is with us under contract.

We're required to provide medical services for him, but we're

not set up here for this kind of case -- I guess it just didn't occur

to anyone that scientists might blow their tops like otherpeople. So in a case like this I'm obliged to use my

discretion.

Robert hesitates.

DOCTOR (CONT'D)What'd you say?

ROBERTI'm thinking it over. Tell me; is it your impression that Allen

requires hospitilization?

DOCTOROh, no. I'd say this whatever it is -- fantasy, I guess you'd call

it -- is a perfectly innocuous business. I mean, Allen appears

to be completely unaffected by it most of the time.

44

ROBERTThat's possible.

DOCTOR(eagerly)

Then you'll take him?

ROBERTI can't say for sure, but I'll be glad to see him and let you know

DOCTORThat's good enough for me.

ROBERTOK, call back tomorrow and make

arrangements with my secretary.

DOCTORSure thing. Thanks in advance.

Robert hangs up the phone and the SPLIT-SCREEN dissolvesinto one--his. He stares over at the patient couch.

ROBERT - V.O.

My chair -- the one behind the couch -- is

not the stationary object it seems. I

have travelled all over the world on it,and back and forth in time.

Without moving from my easy seat ! have metimportant personages and witnessed greatevents. But it remained for Kirk Allen to

take me out of this world when hetransformed the couch in my consulting

room into a space ship that roved the galaxies.

Robert lights a cigarette.

ROBERT - V.O. (CONT'D)

Until Kirk Allen came into my lifeI had never doubted my own

stability.

45

Dominic Rauti

At first it seemed so far away--

The day of graduation.Now it's time to say goodbye

To this four-year-long creation.

But hopefully this poem I shareWill serve as consolation--

I sayThe times we've shared these past four years

Shall be forever Unforgotten

Popcorn and a TV showIn a stuffy little dorm--

And since that day, I've watched you growYou'll be forever Unforgotten

Pizza and a movie night--

I didn't know you could eat that much!Not everyone knows, and it's alright

It's now forever Unforgotten

Other friends have come and goneLeaving footprints in our world

Still their presence here is very strongThey are forever Unforgotten

Other friends have come and gone

Leaving footprints in our worldStill their presence here is very strong '

They are forever Unforgotten

To all the people that I've metAnd whom I'll deeply miss

I remind them please to not forget,ÿ.a_ÿThey are forever L-ÿTÿj

Unforgotten.ÿ_ _

46 ÿominic Rauti

Monica Amore

In my eighteenth October we started to danceA tumultuous pace, but slow a romance

We started with the Waltz and then moved to the TangoYou teased me with the Lambada and soon the Fandango

One-two-three, one-two-three, one side to the other

I felt myself slipping, my heart started to flutter

I knew that back home you had dance lessons tooBut I kept on dancing that two-step with you

I thought that maybe if you spun me aroundYou'd leave what you had and keep what you found

I guess my quick steps made you tired of dancingBecause my sudden dip made you stop our romancing

Years passed and we're starting our lessons again

This time it's different, I just want a friend

But I'll move anyways at your pace like beforeTo see how it feels to dance back on this floor

Now we're dancing unsteady, just like the MamboIt's fast and it's quick, then it's quick, then it's slow

Each step that I take, I feel myself fallingYour moves are so gentle, so kind, so enthralling

But just as this song is almost throughYou let go of my waist and I let get of you

5

Standing before me, I'm reaching out for your hand

I feel myself sinking, the floor like quicksand

Now we're dancing again, your hands 'round my waist

This time it is heartbreak on your lips that I taste

Yet, I'll give in again, with two steps and a dipWatch where you're going, I don't want to trip

So with hope I'll hang on, let's finish this danceI'll give it my all and this very last chance

But I wonder--Is it just the idea of us you're romancing?

If so, then please, no more dips, I'm tired of dancing

47

Chris Gosselin

48

G:

we would like to express our thanks

to those who have inspired us and showncontinuous support for this year's

publication:

Patricia Comitini

Scott Hazan

The Student Government Association

The Chronicle

WQAQ

The Yearbook

The English Club

The English Department

Meagan McSweeney

Charity Stout

I hope that the Quinnipiac Communityhas enjoyed this Spring 2004

Edition of d///J.ÿ JÿJÿ¢ÿ as much as I have

enjoyed creating it

COVER PHOTO BY."Alaina Cuglietto

Suzanne Mahle

Monica Amore

Joyana Peters

Michelle Coutts

Patficia Comitini

Monica Amore

Christina CelentanoMichelle CollinsMichelle CouttsAlaina CugliettoJaimie FioreLinnette Framularo

Regina Framularo

Kellie GleesonSara GoldenRaquel Leusner

Christine McKennaChristina McKitishDaniel Newton

Joyana Peters

Kristy RellaChristian ShabooDiana SpiegleCharity, StoutKatrina Thomas

ocmnit

Monica Amore

Michelle CollinsMichelle CouttsJaimie FioreChristina McKitishKristy Rella