In between ritual comes the upkeep. Third grandchild in line, she climbs the stepladder. A ceiling lamp emits stained tobacco fluorescence. She clears away broken rice grains & tries to …
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Traces from the Li Po poem, “Quiet Night Thoughts,” threaded through my memories and thus, my writing. In trying to recall the childhood poem, I researched Li Po and learned …
When Jon called two miles from the border crossing, Aria nearly threw the carrot slices for her stew into the bin. She stayed her hand just in time and put …
You my wayward ghost, ghost rider joyriding all summer appear at my stoop, knocking on my chest. You seek cash and a couch to crash You seek life force take …
Sun on my face, almost warm But the air still bites Not wanting to deny Winter’s slipping grip. Few trees are still bare, asleep. Crocuses bloom at their feet Trying …
briskets of Chinese cows bathe in Slavic red cabbage invasion, beet defeat the absence of home, diaspora resolves with tomatoes unlike people, 紅湯 cannot flee its vegetables root in …
It was always easier to cut through the old landfill. The dump, which had been rechristened Euston Park, was converted into public green space half a century ago. Beth tried …
I’m jealous of the students at Seoul International and how they practice second languages, the way they write and unwrite poems in English to learn how they fit inside the …
This road to justice in our world is, indeed, a long one. But it is not a road void of hope. In her new book, A Long Road to Justice: …
It was forty-nine days after her mother had passed when the twelve-year-old girl noticed a heat from her chest, to her stomach, her head, fluttering, rushing, propelling her legs to …