WORDPLAY
SPRING 2025
WORDPLAY WORDPLAY
The Congressional School Literary Magazine
Spring 2025
Editors-in-Chief
Isaac Belicev
Jazz Buitrago
Leah Kinder
Faculty Advisor
Holly Keimig
Lead Layout Editors
Abby Ali
Parker Fleming
Associate Layout Editors
James Bagnall, Jake Cohen, Holly Gibson, Gabby Goetz, Lucia Greene, Grayson Ilich, Reece Kennedy, Charlotte Levine, Marina Muntain, Greta Ploetz, Riley Weisman, Ryan Williamson
Copy Editors
Connor Bethel, Brendan Eastman, Reece Kennedy, Charlotte Levine, Hayden McCausland, Kyle Medina, Markus Schaub, Dana Sullivan, Lucas Testa
Submission Readers
Sully Ahn-Kitcher, Connor Bethel, Jake Cohen, Holly Gibson, Gabby Goetz, Grayson Ilich, Lily MacNair, Christian Rameika, Ellie Reynolds, Riley Weisman
Cover
Ryan Williamson
C O N T E N T S
Scotch Tape
Jazz Buitrago
Little inconsistencies
Mistakes of years past A bundle
Held together with A little bit of tape
Becomes a boulder
A weight never lifted
Every movement becomes labored
Every step agony
Pieces of me
Falling away
Picked up
Added to the bundle
Falling apart as I am I run faster
Fast enough that I can Forget the boulder on my back
Falling
Falling but never landing
Taping together all my broken parts
A vase that looks the same But will never hold water
Flowers picked And placed And dying
Dying in my arms
Never as good
As its stronger sisters
Stretching
Never breaking
The default
The normal
The unremarkable
The never noticed
They bring their problems
Nice until a little bit of tape
Can't solve them
One last use
Thrown away
Never to be seen again
Forgotten
Someday
I'll need something stronger To keep myself together
All of those broken pieces
Duct tape or glue
Forming me
Into something unrecognizable Into something indestructible
Something sticks And stones And words
Can't break
Someday
All those pieces are going to be too sharp And cut long ugly slashes Into my tape
Someday
I’ll be too wrong For scotch tape
To fix
Heard Them
Ella Clough
Have they heard them too?
Heard them beating long And felt them pounding? My stomach is empty and full of pity: my Heart slides down against the wall, face-to-face with the ground.
“The Civil War.”
“2387 CE. 2267 CE. 2096 CE. 1899 CE. 1863 CE…Arrived at destination.”
As soon as the door opened, he heard multiple gunshots and screaming He could barely see anything due to the smoke as he marched forward, hoping to find a safe space to watch After minutes of walking, he finally found a small space between rocks that had a clear view of what was going on. He slowly pulled out a camera and started recording everything people getting shot, stabbed, exploded everything. After three hours, he decided he had enough and got out of his hiding place to go back to the machine.
But this time, the soldiers noticed him.
Bullets swirled past him. He began sprinting, forgetting the camera as he dashed forward to where he thought the machine was. When the machine came into view, he leaped inside and closed the doors.
“GO BACK! GO BACK!”
“Returning to 2387 CE ”
As all the dates on the display zoomed back to where he came from, he let out a groan of pain when he looked down and saw he had been shot in the stomach As he got closer to his date, the machine became hotter. Much hotter. He could barely touch the steel as it burned his hand.
When the door opened, all he saw was a burning world trees on fire, the ground in flames, smoke everywhere. He sprinted out of the machine, bearing the pain in his stomach. Tears flowed from his eyes as he realized the world he once knew was now in ruins, just because one of the soldiers had shot at him.
It will be well worth the risk.
He closed his eyes, and the last thing he heard was the wind whooshing before everything went dark
hold the world
maiya GERGICH
Mystery
Ella Clough
When will I back down and Crack the code? Solve this issue. The issue which is forever a mystery....
Falling down,down,down
Marina Muntain
Red, orange, and gold leaves falling down down down.
Down to the old, sunlit road…. Pure blue sky above our heads, sheep clouds above me with no heavy load,
A brisk wind chills my face, Music blaring in my ears. Beautiful leaves falling like gossamer lace. Car rushes to grandfather’s home through the leaves. Falling down, down, down
3 Dogs in a Coat
Jazz Buitrago
We don't know how to operate, we’re three dogs in a coat We don't have any thumbs, But we wish we had a goat
To eat up all our problems And help us with the rent We would go out and buy one But we spent our last cent
On 3 chew toys and a chocolate bar That we cant even eat
But we can’t go in the restaurants To rest our 12 sore feet
There’s a sign that says “no animals” Which I don’t think is fair We’re very cleanly creatures But we avoid the shops and shoe repairs
We still haven't figured out how to properly sit down Or eat or walk or run We can’t stop wobbling around
The spotlight rests eternally On us, and from society we are shunned We always try our best But our performance is never done
We are the quietest in the room But still somehow heard most We can’t make regular mistakes Like dropping plates or burning toast
Martha sometimes tries to chase Every passing squirrel
And the rest of us are forced to race And skip over every hurdle
Every morning we argue
About who gets to be the voice The neighbors do get worried at times Because of all the noise
We never can forget To put on our human mask It's shiny and it’s perfect To believe in it’s no task
All our earthly fears
Are written down on a piece of bacon
We don't know how they got there Without thumbs, notes can’t be taken
Sometimes we have trouble
Not running into walls Martha always stumbles Causing us to fall
We don’t care about the gossip or the latest news
We aren't cheating off your paper it’s literally two plus two
We are far too busy figuring out Conversation cues And why the lights make such a noise And why the cows only say “moo”
We’ve searched For the perf
On healthy eating sle
And what to s
Because SOMEONE m
To send us
As to how to functio
A thing we are
Everyone e to have things all figured out But really, on the inside
We only want to shout
The passers-by will comment “For a human, you are quite hairy” But they forget our middle, Larry Who’s of the hairless kind
Over time, we learned that barks and wags mean smiles And we have a couple friends But they sure don't stay a while
ANTONIA WILSON
UNTITLED
The Light in the Shadow
Jackson Braun
The loud thunder struck far away, Even though it is still day.
I tremble in the sun's rays; Storm comes through in the middle of May.
But when it arrives I am not dismayed: The light rain touches my skin, and I say, “This shadow is as beautiful as day.”
The storm passes, and I’m feeling okay, And it seems the sun shines a little brighter today.
Seasons Changing
Grayson Illich
Fresh rain falls upon the earth; seeds emerge into sprouts, breaking forth from the ground.
The sun lengthens its rays, casting warmth through the land. Flowers' strengthen and petals unfold.
A chilly breeze swooshes across the land. Leaves curl up, and change into dull and vibrant hues. Eventually, they lose the will to hold on and fall to the ground.
Clouds ride in on a freezing north wind, and snow their coldness upon the land, Burying me in cold, dark pain.
superman
kai michael
HE JOKER
E SCHAUFELBERGER
typical gam
jack peterson
Too Cold Jazz Buitrago
Bigger flakes upon biggest flakes
Drowning grasses
Heavy as steel
Colder and colder ‘til I cannot feel
Looking out the window, the world is beautiful and bright
But deep under the snow
That day turns to night.
Suddenly, what once was a snowman Is just an obstacle
What once was a sword is now simply an icicle
And it is too cold
Memories of sunshine
And times in which it was easier To be happy
Easier to be funny
Clouds that were once Fish swimming through the sky
Are now crouching over you Laughing
Losing your mind
Over the days that turn into darkness
And nights that never end
You miss the days
When you played a game of Hide and go seek
With the light
Trivial things
Making you tired
Of this god-forsaken season
And it is far too cold
SILLY ALIEN IN SPACE
Arya Hajigurban
SELFIE
cHLOE dOAN
ELEMENTS OF ART
CHLOE SMOAK
restless
jazz Buitrago
I’m getting that restless feeling again
The one that makes me paranoid
Tossing and turning over and over again
Until my head feels like a washing machine
Clawing at nonexistent spiders
Running down my back
Sound of footsteps
A heartbeat
Ceilings falling Down on me
Memories of eyes Of faces
Peering down the rabbit hole
Wondering where I’ve gone
I dig
Deeper and deeper
I could run
Farther and farther
Until their faces never see me
Except in nightmares
I could freeze
Be quiet enough
Unassuming enough
To slip around them
Feeling too tethered
Too tied down
Like the cow that Jumped over the moon
Want to tear away
To spread like the sky
And protect the clouds
From the faces of the constellations
Want to be a tree
Spread my roots
My branches
Never cut down
Thick skin
But never thick enough to Keep the spears away
From my already bandaged heart
Maybe If I got far enough away
I could forget
But never forgive
I’m getting that Restless feeling again
Like I could run a thousand miles
But can’t get out of bed
The cracks in the cold tile
Spelling out some message I have yet
To understand
The windows winkings
Promises of escape
Held back by thick
Warped glass
And the urge to Run Run Run
The Snake
Brendan Eastman
John turned on the tap to wash his hands. The filter cover at the front had long been lost, a victim to rust and decay. The water came out slowly, almost dripping. He wondered if it was clogged again. He was right, but not in the way he was expecting. He thought there was a rock in there, but then a snake burst out of the pipe
John jumped back and slipped on the wet floor, flying out the bathroom door. His friend Ralph looked at him and said, “What happened to you?”
“A snake!” he gasped Ralph turned to face the snake, a yardstick in his hand The snake reared up and flayed out its hood, hissing Its jaw unhinged to attack
It spit and Ralph did not see what came out, until the bottom of the yardstick started smoking. He was left holding a 6-inch stick. The snake darted forward and attacked. It bit him in the leg, and he hit it with the stick, but the blow was weak, the poison already diminishing him
With his head beginning to spin, Ralph fainted and blacked out The snake slithered up and began to feed as the school was evacuated.
John wanted revenge for his fallen friend and searched for a weapon to use against the snake-and that huge, heavy textbook in the corner looked ideal
The snake was dozing in a corner. He crept closer, careful not to make a sound. Suddenly, it jumped, lunging for him. He dove sideways, dodging. As he prepared to drop the book on it, he made the mistake of looking in its eyes.
Instantly mesmerized, he dropped the book Before the snake could bite, John;s friend Bert slapped him, bringing him back to reality. As he ran down the hallway, he swore he could hear the snake laughing.
He began to think of a plan that might work Trying to keep his scent off the mechanism, he carefully laid a trap He had kept the meat in his lunch box to keep the smell from permeating He sharpened the triple hole puncher to three wicked points, placing a piece of meat inside. When the meat was taken, the binder would snap down and hit the snake.
The snake smelled the meat and slithered towards it It put its head in the trap to reach it, and as it pulled it out, the trap snapped shut The spikes went straight through its skin, killing it instantly
John and Bert celebrated.
But they didn’t see that the snake’s mother had reared up behind them
Then you realize the man who asked for the bathroom keys at noon hasn’t come back from the bathroom.
You walk toward the bathroom, but you stop when you hear a loud snort. You shakily reach for the door handle and twist it slowly.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, hitting you across the face, and a searing pain fills your abdomen—then your back.
A moose has you pinned against a wall with its giant antlers. The moose loosens its antlers—only for a second—to wind up and ram you again.
You dive onto the floor, but instantly regret it. You roll over, crying out in pain, to see the moose charging at you.
You close your eyes as you brace for impact, but instead of death, you’re greeted with a whistling and the moose groaning in pain. You open your eyes to see the moose motionless on the floor, an arrow in its chest.
You turn to see the same brown-haired man from earlier, your savior.
You stagger over to the counter, pull out a sticky note, scribble something down, stick it to the cash register’s screen, thank the man, and lock up the store.
You call 911, and you and the man sit on the curb outside the front door and wait.
Three ambulances, five police cars, two fire trucks, and two animal control vans drift into the parking lot.
Animal Control loads the dead moose into the van while the cops tape off the area. One cop finds a sticky note.
He examines the note, and written in your messy scrawl is:
“I QUIT!”
eve schaufelberger
whale
bald eagle
HOLDEN FRANZ
Act Your Age
They tell me to act more my age but my age was stripped away when I sat there comforting her 2 4 6 8 times my age stifling her cries while my counterpart wanted to be free she asked to play with stuffed animals let imagination run wild but she died when the adult in the room left complaining about all the noise and left me to deal with the mess I wasn't alive to make yet pick up the pieces I wasn't alive to break yet so I sat there comforting and telling her things I didn’t know anything about because I had learned the ABCs but no one had taught me to form those letters into something more substantial into words and paragraphs that could make them stop crying I had learned to add but all they ever did was subtract so I never expected more I learned to keep my head down I learned to fall in line I learned to act fine fine with the turmoil and the yelling fine that I never got to act like a kid I didn't know that while I was planning and preparing and doing everything they couldn’t my peers were playing dress up and throwing fits I was never allowed to throw never given the opportunity because there was already a toddler in the house a 50 year old toddler and there wasn’t room for another so I grew up accused and confused and so no I cannot understand the way you do
Jazz Buitrago
I cannot love the way you do I cannot comprehend your small talk because at the age of six I learned big talk and I worry about 4 5 6 7 years ahead mortgages on apartments I don’t own yet careers I haven't gone to school for grown up things that the other kids shouldnt know about yet but some do I see them but others they think and they worry about friend groups that I never had and fashion trends I never had the time to discover and I worry I worry that no one will remember me when I die and I struggle to place the fork in my mouth sometimes but I push that all the way down and I've been told not to but I learned from the best I can’t act my age because I’m past my age I grew like a beanstalk reaching for the sky except I had other pods to grow for and I kept getting hacked down by the passing farmer the giants too big and scary but I pushed on anyways and I was too weak to be climbed by anyone, Jack that number that is supposed to tell me so many things is missing digits
“act your age” they say I can’t act my age I’m already shriveling up like an unpicked tomato at the end of Summer
Written Stories
Evelyn Milton
As an example: Emma, or Harry Potter. Stories like Skelling, Brown Girl Dreaming. But your story is left unwritten, incomplete. And that’s why YOU can make your story the way you want it to Be. Make your story, YOUR story.
LIFE’S AN OPEN BOOK
CATHERINE BAGNALL
thank you for reading
DEDICATEDTOYOUNGLEARNERS
