Qua Literary and Fine Arts Magazine, Fall 2021

literary & fine arts magazine
fall 2021

QUA
Definition of qua:
in the capacity or character of : AS
discussing the story qua story

STAFF
Editor in Chief
Amanda Seney
Assistant Editors
Jina Bhagat
Steven Hrynkiw
Cecilia Warchol
Art & Design Director
Katelyn Stuck
Design Advisor
Andy Deck
General Advisor
Dave Larsen

table of
CONTENTS
4
POETRY
How Thick is Your Moral Fiber 5
A Parade of Containers 6
Questions for my Absentee Father 8
On His Game 10
My Butterfly 11
Soft Spot 13
Lake Superior Trek 14
Woman and Cloth 17
VISUAL ARTS
Faces in Phases 7
Different Direction 12
Journey 15
The Colors Beyond Me 16
FOR THE READER
Workbook 18
ABOUT QUA
Contributor Bios 29

how thick is
your moral fiber
By Frankie McIntosh
5

a parade of
containers
By Jessica Dixon
a parade of containers
my mother’s body – out two months early
an incubator – void of human touch
cardboard boxes – filled with objects of importance and need
a lower body cast – itchy, restricting, and hollow
a check box on a form – I AM DISABLED
my body a vessel – cannot contain all of the pain – it has to go
somewhere
Now
COVID – has shrunk the space in which my body can move and
where it is safe to breathe
I can’t climb out of this container –
this body
much like a Tupperware container
rounded corners
and
on display for everyone to see
6

faces in
phases
By Lani Manners
7

questions for my
absentee father
A Piece Inspired by The Odyssey
By Lauren Hackett
8
To my father, whoever you may be ––
I don’t remember you
but you surely remember me.
The resignation in my
downcast eyes
when you informed me of your
imminent departure.
The way I clung to your
terror-stricken wife
who you knew would go
mad in your absence.
Tell me, father
would I know your face from
the others now? If I saw it floating
down the street?
Would I have a better understanding
of my own
mannerisms, complexities, shortcomings
if I knew what you were like?
Or would knowing you be like
reading a horrible prophecy about myself
seeing and submitting to the whisper of a person
I will inevitably become?
You are like Odysseus

leaving his family behind
to make a name for himself
which will be chanted melodiously
among men
until it is not.
But no,
I suppose you are not like
Odysseus
because it was not the
brash ocean winds
nor the wrath of the gods
nor the seductive songs of
witch-goddesses
that kept you from your family.
It was your own will
your own tendency to try and
erase people from your life. Well I cannot be
erased and that is why you will rise every morning
and think of me
And I will never cast a thought in your direction
again.
9

10
on his game
By Joe Rinehart
On his game,
He begins in the green plains and blue skies
Searching for water,
Food,
And maybe
A new life
On his game,
He escapes from the monsters of the night
He looks for shelter,
Not without putting up a fight
It’s unforgiving
Eventually,
He begins to see the light,
Until it’s time for another fight
On his game,
He is sheltered from the world that surrounds him
The stone of the shelter reaches to heights unknown
But,
It’s time to continue onward
He walks through the red land,
Hell
On his game,
He cannot escape,
The patches of fire
But he is superman
He wears a blue cape
Off of his game,
He is stuck in the red land
He is surrounded by new monsters
How will he leave?
He trips and falls
He knows there’s safer times
It’s the green plains and blue skies, beyond the monsters.

the butterfly
By Joe Rinehart
Golden blonde
Singing along
Turned it brown
Then flip it around
Now back to her same old sound
Yeah, those butterflies stick around
Looking at her eyes
It really is my demise
Hotter than some weather in the Bahamas
So tense I could cut it with a katana
She lets me play my songs, now that’s Nirvana
Can’t wait for her to meet my mama
I had to,
Lace up my other shoe because
I was running out of patience for you
Get me a DeLorean
Get back in the car, let’s restart the story and
I won’t tell you you’re worth waiting for
Hang on one minute
I’ll crack you a drink
But only if we’re at the beginning
But pardon me if I go and doublethink
You’re still a treasure like American mink
Golden Blonde
Singing Along
Turned it brown
Then flip it around
Now back to her same old sound
My butterflies stick around
11

eyes
different direction
Painting
By Lani
by.
Manners
Lani Manners
12

soft spot
By Joe Rinehart
I saw you on Dixie the other day
I thought about honking at you and just saying hey
But I was on the clock busy getting my pay
I also saw your second man since me
Did some investigating, he looks just like me
Mop top, skinny boned, really large tee
Makes me remember you still have one of my shirts
If I’m not mistaken I think that it’s a sweatshirt
I bet you sleep in it, I bet it’s your nightshirt
I still have some bobby pins and some other shit
Mac shirts and tan hats, you bought all of it
You did love me and you meant all of… cool it man
13

A Lake
Superior Trek
By Vicky Dawson
I. Old Boat
Old, discarded boat
Weathered hull cracks, into—
Beautiful grey bones.
II. Sand Skeletons
Along the sun-scorched shores of Lake Superior
Lay the old bones of vessels
Long wrecked and forgotten.
Superior, so deep, so cold, a crypt.
Yet, driftwood bodies burst forth
Emergent, out of a frothy grave.
Little more than grey ribbed curiosities
Scattered haphazardly.
Their sand-smoothed edges
The only remnant the vessel ever existed.
III. Pine Witches
Roots, like witches’ fingers grow.
Poised and pointed, in their crooked pose.
Creep out of shallow sandstone rock,
But, when their trampled fingers crack,
Even old, gnarled pine witches weep.
14

journey
By Tricia Nadrowski
15

16
the colors
beyond me
By Lani Manners

Woman and cloth skeined together and woven closely;
like the lash and brow is to the eye.
They cover the earth with it,
are born on it.
Cloth is fumbled and pushed aside,
the infant suckles the breast.
The bride is netted and laced,
the family is clothed, and the procession begins.
Houses are adorned with it,
beds thickly covered,
we towel and wipe dry.
Aprons circle the waist,
rising dough is covered loosely.
Little girls are ribboned.
Little boys are shoe stringed.
Life ends.
Softly cleansed, kind hands dress us.
A tear falls, caught by a handkerchief.
~ 1999
woman and
cloth
By Marion Davidek Sekelsky
17

WORKBOOK
It’s your turn. Use this
section of the book as
writing prompts.
18

Write a story with the first line:
The skeletons sit in the corner.
19

20
Write a poem with the first line:
No thank you

Take a photo of something
older than you are
Write a three-sentence
horror story.
21

Find a photo you like;
now draw it in abstract
Sketch, draw, paint someone
based not on their physical
features, but rather on your
perception of their character.
22

Two people meet in a train
station. One is on the way to
Chicago, the other is heading
home from Las Vegas.
Tell their story.
23

24
What does winter sunlight at
5pm look like against a
cupboard? On a needle in a
vacant house? Against a blank
page on a table?

Write a love letter to an object,
place or person that makes you
happy.
25

26
Write about how your day
is going right now.

Think of a place where you feel
the most peaceful. What does it
look, sound, smell, feel like?
27

28
If the house you grew up in could
tell a story, sing a song, recite a
poem, what would it say?

CONTRIBUTORS
29

Vicky Dawson
is a tree hugging nature lover, writer, and writing center
coordinator. She loves writing and assisting writers. Her
poem is based on a six-day backpacking trip she did across
Pictured Rocks with her husband—an exciting, breathtaking
experience she hopes to do again someday.
Jessica Dixon
is a writer living in Michigan.
Lauren Hackett
is an aspiring writer and English educator in the
University of Michigan––Flint’s Secondary English
Teacher’s Certificate Program. She presently works as
an editorial intern at Cardinal Rule Press, and has also
worked for the university’s Writing Center and
student-led newspaper, The Michigan Times. In her spare
time, Lauren enjoys reading, running, and drinking
overpriced coffee.
Lani Manners
is an artist living in Michigan.
Frankie McIntosh (Empress)
is a University of Michigan-Flint student studying Criminal
Justice and Sociology with a minor in Computer Science.
She is the founder of Mifullness (my-fullness) Poetry, a
program that focuses on using poetry for mental wellness
amongst teens in Flint & Genesee County. She received the
Roy W. Cowden Memorial Fellowship from University of
Michigan LSA Hopwood Awards in 2021. Empress is best
known as one of the curators for the “Poet For Hire’’ with
the What’s Up Downtown Flint. She also has an Instagram
account poetrytoldbyanempress and a Facebook page
poetrytoldbyanempress.
30

Tricia Nadrowski
resides in the rural area of Lapeer. Her work demonstrates
the journey she is walking through as an emerging artist.
To fight against life’s challenges, she arms herself with only
a pencil. Although drawing is one of her artistic skills, she
loves creating short stories and producing music.
Joe Rinehart
Joe, in his free time, writes about some of his deepest
thoughts. With a wide collection of poems hidden, the topics
can vary from relationships to difficult circumstances
in his everyday world. Each time a poem is written by
him, it is rich with emotion regardless of the subject.
Marion Davidek Sekelsky
(January 25, 1929 - November 20, 2020) - Marion Davidek
Sekelsky was born and raised in Flint, Michigan. A proud
graduate of Beecher High School, Class of 1947, she was
a lover of travel, culture and art. Marion’s work has been
published in University of Michigan-Flint literary magazines
at various times over the decades. Her poem “Woman and
Cloth” is published here with the permission of her family.
Submit: https://go.umflint.edu/quamagazinesubmission
Email: flint.sil.qua@umich.edu
Instagram: umflintqua
Website: https://blogs.umflint.edu/qua/
31

Submit: https://go.umflint.edu/quamagazinesubmission
Email: flint.sil.qua@umich.edu
Instagram: umflintqua
Website: https://blogs.umflint.edu/qua/