Snow on the branches, but green underfoot. The sound of a creek finally able to pull itself out from under the ice. Crows cry out with hungers I keep as …
Category:
Poetry
““According to Chekhov,” Tamaru said, rising from his chair, “once a gun appears in a story, it has to be fired.”” – Haruki Murakami Some will stutter, sorry and strange, …
It was a day that hammered wrought iron into our lungs, having gashed our breath into rapid gasps. We rested cross-legged on the footpath, watching the cold light that ebbed …
A blue jay pulls his screech across thresholds of dawn, tripping me awake. Somewhere, someone else will stumble into a room built by the inevitable, lit with sconces. My routine …
Master Chung tells me most successful taekwondo schools are located in bad neighbourhoods. Big bullies are best for business, he says. Master Chung is cunning this way. One day a …
when my mom married my stepdad signed a deal along with his sponsorship papers he brought into our house a local souvenir a shot glass molded into the shape of …
kabayan ……..thirty-four years struggle for suitcase space ……..from the suffocating smog of a capital city ……..to the sandy slopes of an arabian kingdom class of 1999 ……..photo ripped edges blurred …
negotiates the smog and smear of my wide windows slick and smart and self-conscious across the hardwood Nobody will ever love this city like me Nobody would want to. – …
I will always be faithful to my banana cue suki Whose name I do not know Whose face I cannot place Her features dart hither and thither Slipping away from …
Fingers on a dollar, slid towards the till Fingers take the dollar with its uncertain will Fingers on a pin pad, skin to the button My skin, her skin, …