Outside #01-239, the post office in Lucky Plaza, they leer at her, and she wonders what the three of them are doing there. Don’t Bangladeshi workers belong in Little India?
In Rich Homie Quan’s 2013 classic, “Type of Way,” he joins a three thousand-year tradition of literary recluses in a single rhyming couplet: “I got a hide away, and I go there sometimes, to give my mind a break/ I find a way, to still get through the struggle, what I’m tryna say.”
I’ve been here for forty days. Each day is the same, by which I mean they are all different. The walls of my room are supposed to be beige, but they’re not. They’re grey. I tried to draw the solar … Read More
Our history books are mistaken. The first book Gutenberg printed with his moveable type was not, in fact, the Bible. Rather, it was a 28-page Latin primer on the art of writing and delivering speeches. The second book was a copy of his wife’s recipe collection, grouped according to the spices used in each dish.
I have written poems pomes (pennyeach) like pommes as in pommes de terre those roots with eyes— and now I write in my eyes, to my eyes à mes yeux which means in another light ‘by my way of thinking’— … Read More
Emma and Dani were sprawled out on the bed in Dani’s room snorting cocaine with a one hundred dollar bill and a small mirror that had once belonged to Dani’s pink jewelry box. The kind with the ballerina that you had to wind; when the box opened, the ballerina would twirl around and around to The Russian Dance from The Nutcracker. Bones protruded from Dani’s hip through her translucent skin, and her gaunt face sagged. Her piercing blue eyes were dulled by thick black eyeliner, and the heavy bronzing makeup coating her face obscured her wan teenage skin. Dani took a big hit and laid back on her simple white bed, sniffling loudly and pawing at her nose.
The dragon now is yawning With the sun’s new dawning And greedily is fawning O’er the gold of fallen fighters of yore. Meanwhile D & D dice are rolling To represent fearsome fighting While from a cloud with silver lining … Read More
It could be anyone, the one waiting somewhere for you to love her. You wait in a dark station, the trains arriving and leaving, knowing nothing of her. Everything is a welling up, an unhurried dance spinning and dipping, like … Read More
