Splash into Summer with Split Lip
Happy summer, SLM readers! With the days getting longer, and the nights getting warmer, it’s the perfect time to dive into stories that simmer with life. Here are a few gems from our archive that capture this season’s heat and heart. Whether you’re reading these while soaking up in the sun or cooling off in the AC, we hope they make the perfect companions for your summer daydreaming!
“Ponyo (2008) Dreams in Tectonic Scales,” by Sarah Lao is the perfect piece to begin with. Using the animated Studio Ghibli film as a loose, surreal backdrop, this poem creates a lush, dreamlike atmosphere. It merges the boundaries between self and world. We especially love how it captures the transition from spring into summer—when everything feels on the verge of becoming something else.
And… action! Next is Michael Todd Cohen’s “Williamstown, Summer 2003.” This memoir is poetic, punchy, and as euphoric as the plot itself. Set in a summer theater program in Massachusetts, it showcases the blur between acting on a stage and putting on a performance in real life, where sensational fame is only a fantasy.
Perhaps nothing is more fantastical than “mermaids!” Juliana Lamy’s fiction is an emotionally searing coming-of-age tale where two children form a friendship during a turbulent summer. Mermaids are not literally present, but instead symbolize everything the young protagonists long for: safety, understanding, and a place where they can truly be themselves.
In contrast, “Tree-Houses,” by Cody Deitz portrays a longing for escapism, one made possible through the use of substances. The poem begins with an innocent tone of summer fun, but quickly pivots into sharp, dark reflections. It reveals that an intoxicating urge to transform reality may not last.
Another more melancholic piece is “On Going” by Dina L. Relles, which drifts between past and present. But, it remains anchored in vivid details—a retro motel room, the smell of iron, June street corners. It explores how certain places hold echoes of past loves and intimate moments. This one stood out for how it depicted the lingering ache for even just the memory of closeness.
Memories also wave through Aurielle Marie’s, “unlike every other poem I found you in”—this time, memories with a father. The speaker grapples with the pain and complexity of loving a dad who has hurt them, seeking peace without the promise of closure. Despite acknowledging that writing can’t always redeem, this poem reaches out anyway.
Another family dynamic is the one in “Six Days” by Chloe Chun Seim. Like the title suggests, the narrative unfolds over six days in summer, after the protagonist’s sister is away at summer camp and he is left at home with his mom. The story resists conventional plot arc, culminating in a deeply impactful ending—detailing the dysfunctional dynamic between a boy, his mother, and his absent sister.
“submechanophobia, or the feminine urge to be an airplane on the lakebed” by Eli Kourtis is not only a weighted title, but a weighted story. This darkly whimsical fiction follows a woman and her childish partner as they navigate the aftermath of a long lost airplane being recovered from a lake. The whole town is gripped in morbid fascination. Eventually, the woman’s irritation about the situation reveals a deeper truth about how she views herself …
A similarly introspective piece is the memoir “Two Immigrants,” by Ajay Makan. Set in summer, it explores Ajay’s proximity to fellow South Asians whose struggles resemble his parents’ rather than his own—beginning when he meets a man with shared ancestry but not shared class or circumstance. This piece is rich with layers of meaning, with solidarity and division.
“Banana Split Deluxe” by Emily Costa is a flash about the emotional and physical labor of teenage girls who are underpaid, underestimated, and overworked at their small-town ice cream shop. Yet, despite everything, deep female friendship and resilience remain. The piece is quietly angry, depicting what it means to be a girl trying to survive a world built to consume her.
Last, but not least is “Meteor,” by Josh McColough. On the surface, the flash follows a first-person narrator walking along a crowded Gulf Coast beach at sunset. But beneath the sandy exterior is the narrator’s emotional detachment—contrasted with the loud, carefree women they observe and the breathtaking, cosmic occurrence of a falling meteor.
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Evangeline Lim (@ev.angline) is currently pursuing English and Media Studies at the University of California Berkeley. She is an intern at Split Lip Magazine and a weekender staff-writer at The Daily Californian. Outside of reading and writing, she loves trying new restaurants, watching romcoms, and her pet turtle, Murdtle.