nancy kang

By Nancy Kang Published in 16.4   Widow he is here for a moment, then gone she stays a little while longer eating onions with red rims, purple smiles dreaming …

By Nancy Kang Published in 16.4   Coast: July   I press a finger                                                                           at the fading pulse of …

By Nancy Kang Published in 16.4   Yellow Woman for Leslie Marmon Silko she speaks of the sparseness of the bees who visit in the frenzy of season’s shift seeking …

By Nancy Kang Published in 16.4   Min, Mine ghosts are sentient, austere, ancestral like ceramic dust, but heavy as bone-meal seaweed tangle, the cool blue overpass, the bent grass, …