The year was 1969. I was ten And carried a spiral notebook everywhere I went, from the corner store to the diamond, The whack of the bat, the way it …
Category:
Poetry
december 21, 2016 — this morning, tens of thousands fled their homes in china. since last week, half a billion people have been inhaling red alert air more people than …
Being published for the first time is a challenge, especially since the odds are so sharply stacked against emerging writers. This was the case for several young Asian Canadian writers …
Alas, as a second-language speaker of English, I was fortunate enough to have it engraved in my brain and jammed down my throat at an early age. Having parents who …
Canada 150, or the 150th anniversary of Confederation, is an occasion of both celebration and remembrance. The significance of this anniversary can be complicated to navigate given Canada’s varied history. …
the city on saturday mornings is not fully awake yet not fully recovered from last night’s dancing reckless and loving lonely strangers and taking midnight walks up to casa loma. …
I got a sunburn today, screaming red across the bridge of my nose like molten flesh. I’m glad. You see Mama, I’m not scared of becoming too “dark,” or curdling …
It’s strange watching this woman, my grandmother of the hunched back, chinaware bones and narrowing shoulders, this renegade who can count one more generation she has married off for every …
I Our arid fissured earth implores the blue heavens for drops of rebirth II Abundant river From clear to brown; at last dust The parched land despairs III Erratic weather …
Watch over the ginger boiling in the kitchen, your epiglottal bile, the regurgitating sink, the revolutionary protests of pipes. Free fall into slaloming sleep, navigate the mutilated men and mutinying …