The Marquis 

                                  Lafayette College's Literary Magazine

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Hello! And welcome to The Marquis website! In an age of Nooks and other E-readers we have decided to hop on the bandwagon and make our website digital! This is a website not only for people who love to read and write, but for people who love drawing or photography. 

 

Love to read? Go check out our archives! Want to send something to The Marquis but want help editing? Send it to us at themarquiswebsite@gmail.com and we will help you edit on our Feedback Corner! Love art? Check out our gallery! 

 

To learn more about The Marquis come to our meetings. We meet every Thursday from 7-8 in Pardee 113. 

 

Feel free to submit any piece of writing or artwork at themarquis.lafayette.edu.

 

STAFF SPOTLIGHT:

HIGHLIGHT OF THE WEEK:

Name: Christine Allen

 

Major/Year: English/Psych, 2017

 

  • What is the last book you read?

 

          Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix 

 

  • If you were to receive a gift tomorrow, what would you like to get?      

 

             A long cardigan

 

  • What is the song that has been stuck in your head this week?              

 

             Deck the Halls

 

  • Is Disney World really just a human trap set up by a mouse?                

 

               I hope so...

 

  • Who would star in the movie of your life?    

         

              In reality Ellen Page; However, if I could                    choose, it would be Jennifer Lawrence

 

  • If you could be a consultant, what kind would you be and why?    

 

             "How to be a burrito" --just let people wonder ;)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cold Mornings

Rachel LeWitt

 

Just beneath my fake

fur-lined slippers, that I sometimes call skippers,

there are wool socks

They have treated me wonderfully.

I am indebted to them

even in the summer,

even when I have forgotten about them 

and painted my toenails red.

Just beneath my socks

are my feet, 

freshly smoothed

by some volcanic rock from

some country 

my country invaded

during a war no one talks about.

I am no expert of history

or anatomy or silence--

I can't name the bones of my body

or the muscles that pull 

me out of bed on cold mornings.

I wish I knew better,

not a scientist's Latin phrase

wrapping the ivory of my toes

or my bra size, not my IQ or how

my stomach turns into something

unhappy and weak

whenever I've eaten too much

or seen something 

I can't use for months.

I wish I knew myself

as an arm you'd run your

fingers across on a Sunday morning

as you write something 

beautiful above your French pillows

that say "de rien, de rien"

which means you're welcome,

you're welcome, but also

of nothing, nothing, nothing