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Category: Poetry


Where were you? 

Where were you when the apocalypse started? At least zombies are visible Corona is silent. They say the world came to a halt, It didn’t. It continued on cracked waves, jolting and spilling, creaking towards its ports but sometimes got abandoned. Everyone became poorer except…

Featured, Poetry

Washington Square Park 

Last Spring I walked through Washington Square Park and the benches had almost reached full capacity. I pass by the saxophone player at the base of the statue, pink blossoming around him, intercepted with fresh light green buds, The guy walking around with a free…


Urumuri Rutazima 

Urumuri rutazima. We ignite that candle. Every year. April. Never let it fade. Because hope is stronger than darkness. Because light is where we move to. A 100 days. A million graves. Because I watched my father, my mother, my sister, my brother, my child…

Featured, Poetry

Liquid Children, Souls Of Sweetness 

I   The day ends with a playground not for children but for the occasional growing up. No, I would not send your child there. Two wired slides with no bottom or railing to rely on. Ropes unstable and high, your child would fall off. But…



Kettle screech jolts his two-minute nap. Five a.m. Half asleep, he pours boiling water into coffee-drenched mugs. Half asleep, it takes him two seconds to realize – the hot watered surface has become his skin. These white walls stifled him. He found his excuse, at…


Above the Sea 

You confused me at first. Constantly. Frustatingly. I was lost. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay. I’d walk the streets Just watching ayi’s sitting on pavements selling vegetables and shoes, and clothes racks extending out of windows and over the streets like colourful…


Burn Down 

Only your parents can find you someone good, they say. It’s not a treasure hunt, it’s like a walk down the aisle in a grocery store. Pick up a product. Because women, they say, have an expiration date. Your biological clock is tick, tick ticking.   …


Cushion Cover 

A cushion has a cover, stripes made by hands that held their first grandchild, with buttons fallen and replaces that blended into maroon lungis with silver brooches and silvering hair. A cushion has a cover, scented with blessings and incense burnt as an offering to…


剩女 (Sheng Nu. Left over Woman) 

How old are you? Shouldn’t you be married ? Yes, I am 25, I shouldn’t be anything that I don’t want to be. I am complete by myself, don’t make me Seem halved, Because I don’t Have a husband. Do you want to disrespect your…