Category:

Poetry

Our new L-shaped house embraced a pool as its heart, a curving figure eight, turquoise shimmer mirroring turquoise clapboard. My father’s pristine pride May through September. He’d skim off leaves, …

I wrote one million poems not one featured the word brown. I scalpeled my own pulsing heart excised all trace of spice or silk routes stepped politely away from ugly …

East Vancouver ’00

by Allan Cho

My first plane ride took me to rain splattering against the windows of the cab fingers were tightening over mine mother’s? I knew this was no vacation the squat house …