live in a city lucky for light eyed, light haired. fed instead on hospital hot lunch, newcomers stuffed in translation, apartment blocks, their children. every reserve disappears to return for …
Category:
Poetry
So this is how it feels, ears an errant visitor amidst hushed conversations under the orange lamp whose glow glances your skin, shimmering ever so slightly. Like the kumquat in …
look at this rocky playground, where we scraped knees to leave them bleeding, then outgrown the stagnant navy blue and white uniforms, blown into different directions, flying away- until divine …
i twist the spines of my mother’s green onion stems products of caramelized trauma spun into salted relationships through my busy thumbs gluing her past to my present in a …
One step through the door and the stove turns on. The welcoming home hands slice Julienne style, tossing, mixing, ruminating on the taste of being together. Put in more eggs, …
I keep a faded box of Chinese language cards on the bottom shelf of a basement bookcase. The box is almost as old as me, the cover once bright …
1 At age four, I entered a world completely foreign to my Chinese roots At the long dining room table of my Argentinian babysitter’s home I sipped mate through a …
I Cumulus clouds drift above the canopy of leaves shading tireless workers. Rows of bountiful produce in a pastoral landscape where the passage of light measures time. Thrifty, makeshift furrows …
……………….. ……………after Amy Chua An accent is a sign of bravery, of journey, celebrated or unsung— a mark of freedom from the slavery of thinking in a single siloed tongue. …
How did I get so blue? Events, free food, and friends galore. It infects my fingertips and rushes through. This novelty lasted until nothing was true— the college kid’s book, …