~Meniscus Archives~
Winter 2003
Issue #2

November - February 2004

Link to Issue #2 Home


Bynum's Corner Word Games

The Dissapperance of Childhood
Sarah Trachtenburgh

There's something about Crystal Boots
Drayton Patriota
Debate/Retort by Little Lamb
The Apothecary and Mr. Cesnek
Chrystie Hopkins
A Stroll Down Shakedown Street
Caleb Estabrooks
Out of the Box, Into my Hands
Derek Gumuchian
Travel Log of a Colorado Girl
Erin Hopkins
Santa Fe
Chrystie Hopkins
How to find your friends at IT!
Rob Hansen
Meniscus New Years Picks
Sound Tribe Sector 9: Focusing the Light
-Jon Heinrich
Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey: Take a Trip with the Wild and Wooly Masters of the Jam-Jazz Scene
-Brian Gagné
CD Review:
Solar Igniter
CD Review:
Cadillac Jones-
Junk in the Trunk
Through Glass
and Grain

-Aiden FitzGerald
four poems
-Brandon Rigo
-Pete Pidgeon
Art Model
-Julia Magnusson
-Julia Magnusson
Dead dog
-Julia Magnusson
-Julia Magnusson
Those games
we'd play

-Julia Magnusson
Ode de Toiletté
-Aron Ralston
-Stephanie Laterza
-Stephanie Laterza
-Stephanie Laterza
Meniscus is...
Meniscus Premier Launch Party
Zeitgeist Gallery
Cambridge, Massachusetts
August 14, 2003

Metro Saturdays hosts
Meniscus Portland Launch
Sky Bar @ The Roxy
Portland, Maine
August 30, 2003

State of the Art
Lounge Ten
Boston, Massachussets
October 23, 2003


A Stroll Down
Shakedown Street

Caleb Estabrooks
Published 11/15/03


“Doses! Molly!” a man calls out.

“Nuggets,” mutters a young woman.

“Ecstasy, mescaline,” I hear in the background.

Shakedown Street is more of a situation than it is a place. Looks like something from a Renaissance Era open market, not that I’ve been to one. It was on a dirt road surrounded by trees, it was lined with freely dressed men and women selling their wares. Some sell grilled cheese sandwiches, others sell narcotics but they are all part of the same subculture situation. A collage of individuals congregate in this place, they obey the same unwritten rules, yet most of these people haven’t met.

Young children play on a swing hanging from a tree as their mother pawns homemade garments. A few feet down the road is a man selling magic mushroom chocolates. I thought this was a novel idea so I stopped to talk with him a moment. A bit further down the path is a young man who has had too much. He leans too far to one side and falls off his folding chair. I helped him back up, and with help from his friends, we set him on the ground figuring it to be a bit safer. I walked on down the road; more color, and more people.

A parade of drummers and masqueraders came marching down the path. They stopped at an intersection where a small impromptu concert began. Young human butterflies fluttered about, dancers came with big smiles and more people in costume brought their energy to the crowd.

It didn’t take long for the mounted security to come in: “We must keep the road clear,” one of them roared. They were stern but friendly and the crowd dispersed.

-Caleb Estabrooks


Meniscus Magazine © 2003. All material is property of respective artists.