Language begins at the crunch of siu yuk, its rugged hide, and continues through the rhythm of laughter, the blues of evening vapor among brass horns hoisting the dizzy swing …
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Sitting quietly by the First Narrows remembering The Lost Salmon-Run, of the ravenous yearning for strength, unaware of the consequences that will devastate our community, shattering the solace seen in …
After, you would join others at the beach, greedy for a glimpse of wreckage – barge slammed against seawall, containers like a copper fort bricked against sky. Scrawl of flip-flops, …
My identity is held together by a series of dashes, A jumbled code only some understand. And only some will understand the pain of being held together by wiry stitches. …
A drizzle, a dash, a sprinkle of fine oil on heated pans Harmonious rhythms ring from the band playing on the stage Warmth flutters up in your chest The heat …
Filthy water Squalid streets From filth they bloom Morning dew delicately sat on a petal Industrious tears fill the eyes of Chinese pioneers An arduous odyssey A one man’s journey …
We invite you to submit your unpublished work to the theme of “pause” — a reflection of the world as it held its breath for more than two years as …
I blue moon 藍月 in a locked down city your room was jounced and lullaby’d by the whoosh of the passing TTC you carved blue moons and dark grass on …
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 …
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 …