Photo: Evie Shaffer / Unsplash
A Funeral
Wash me with warm water and soap made of fresh olive oil
anoint me with amber and camphor water
with rose geranium and orange blossom water
Swaddl…
Poetry
Photo: Analusie Gamboa / Unsplash There were neither plots nor characters, only places. Neighborhoods sliced in half. Terraces and corridors between roofless rooms. Profiles only. S…
Winter Sun, 2017, oil on wood panel, by Kay WalkingStick. Courtesy of the artist and June Kelly Gallery Bless this land from the top of its head to the bottom of its feet …
They had to remove it and off we went: A transparent image of bones chained together; Half face, three-quarters, full face of the fingers stretched out, fingers without recogn…
Temple in Varanasi / Photo by Saurabh Chatterjee / Flickr Spring descends on this city suddenly and when it does a whirl of dust rises from Lehartara or Manduadih and coats the tongue o…
Farol de Combate This is how, while darkness drew my profile with its little finger I have learned to see past as Montale saw it, The obscure t…
Photo: Picker H/Flickr November in Xichang There are cities one won’t see again. – Joseph Brodsky I. Only a bearded smile shows be…
Photo: Brian Ainsworth/Flickr Borderland (2) Moored in an estuary of chestnut trees is the main building – a mother ship. The sharp-eyed gaze eventually settles, st…
Photo: M. Maggs/Pixabay La bona educació L’estiu que complia set anys li van regalar un estoig de fusta amb un llapis i una goma. El llapis, perquè en rosegué…
Photo: Simon Q/Flickr A patch of sunlight on the wall thin shadows like worn nets or the snagged stockings of a voracious lover impair that patch. Our shoes tap the mar…
PHOTO: Scott Webb/Unsplash * Tulips and their capricious labia, their indecent appeal. The absolute shamelessness of the flowers, but also the sinlessness. The lushness of the earth, as be…
Lorie Shaull, “Stolperstein” / Flickr The story begins like this. No. It does not. There is no story. Or, they shoveled a load of speed and shuddered toward the coast. Saltpans. S…
View of the Kukupalong refugee camp near Cox’s Bazaar, Bangladesh. / PHOTO: Russell Watkins / UK Department of International Development “I can be killed here in Bangladesh.…
Rohingya students reading The Blossom in the Community Rebuilding Centre education facility in Cox’s Bazaar refugee camp, October 2018. Photo courtesy of Mayyu Ali. Translat…
Crystal Z Campbell, Friends of Friends (Six Degrees of Separation), 4x6x72 inches, vintage collection of bacteria slides circa 1940s, steel, LED strips, automotive paint, plexiglas, 2013…
PHOTO: Luca Iaconelli/Unsplash Watching the Moonrise Alone Watching the moonrise alone the silent moon is like the person watching They’re alone together No one utt…
PHOTO: SkitterPhoto/Pexels considering the Upstairs Lounge Fire We tipped our sticks to the gravel like the bent spines of men groveling beneath trunks of smoke to lur…
Photo: Casliber/Wikimedia Commons We have been away from Jam Tree Gully – now, reapproaching the name not on the gate. Working the categories, the signs, we fear the raiders? Fifteen minu…
Photo: Domeckopol/Pixabay 6 His under- wear white Armpits spotless and collar neat From Monday to Monday he is like that because the drainpipe carries off the rest.…
Photo: Bash Fish/Unsplash 1 At what time must the birds lined up in gardens, trees, and cages sing? Look to the law. 2 Let’s appoint the village madman. Chief Justice on…
Photo: Michael Olsen/Unsplash [Carry my metaphor] Carry my metaphor; I touched the sea before waves deceived me. Carry my dream; I saw it all without opening eyes of salt. Carry my soul; I me…
Photo: Kordula Vahle/Pixabay * Granaries as long and winding as the shores from which we look at the lit ocean, behind us the fertile land, rivers coming to this sea, silt behi…
Photo: Foto-Rabe/Pixabay Guide to Bharatanatyam Your smile, shredded into silver shards across panes of mirrors lining studio walls. Tuck your sari, tight. Open your eyes, wid…
In the Presence of the Simurg, by Ashur EtwebiHow Can You Recognize a Blue Morning?How can you recognize a blue morning?The sea to his right, the desert to his left.What voices does the morni…
Photo: Ria Alfana/Unsplash A Conversation from Far, Far Away *No linedear friendconnects here, where I am,with where you are.Isn’t it strange that I’m talking to you?The question you hande…