There are times I am convinced Anna’s mere presence activates my gout. Other times I wish to hug her. She is taking over my kitchen – my Indian restaurant. She wields her knife like a Shokunin chef, commanding the respect … more »
April is nascent and the air is thick with morning dew. Ears agonizing, like you’ve just removed headphones that were wrapped around your head for too long. Legs aching as movement reintroduces blood back into your veins after a plane … more »
(Watching Chinese Movie: Better Days)
I am of, two persons
Wearing a mask makes it easy
Sometimes forgetting is possible
Living in fear for the Next is
You are not alone.
Looking alike is so much … more »
Holding The Holy Bible in his hands, Hardy Ko feels overwhelmingly flattered. All afternoon, he could not help but read again and again the inscription:
May this Bible bring you
comfort and joy
Miss H. Andrews… more »
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 my own.
Even Basho couldn’t escape from fleas and lice… more »
Yi-shuan (倚旋) was difficult for them to pronounce and mama (媽媽) didn’t want me to stick out more than I already did or spend the rest of my life correcting people. So when my parents were filling out our immigration-papers, … more »
Interview with Budjette Tan & Kajo Baldisimo, the creators of TRESE
By Nathalie De Los Santos
Trese Vol 1: Murder on Balete Drive by Budjette Tan and Kajo Baldisimo is coming to US and Canada on October 13, 2020. This … more »
““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,
Some will smile, weird and wicked.
A gun’s greeting will … more »
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 from the store engulf us
like shipwrecks. Before us, the … more »
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 gropes for its habits:
ablutions, blinds withdrawn
praise for green … more »