In my earliest memories, I am eating Chinese food. My great-aunt’s house in the suburbs outside Boston is split-level and her mother, my great-grandmother, lives in the lower level. You enter through the front door onto a landing between the two halves of the house, and if you walk downstairs, her kitchen will be directly in front of you.
Category: Creative Writing
TWO POEMS – Chloe Hanks
I remember the shape of the word rainbow
on her puckered mouth, how we sounded
it out from my bedroom window.
ONE POEM – John Dorroh
How did a barrel-chested man learn
this magic? Softened like golden butter
in a dizzy aftermath, he did too many wars perhaps.
COMFORT FOODS // The Taste of Forgiveness – Sarah Islam
We are three siblings, scattered across continents, each of us carrying the taste of a different kitchen.
ONE POEM – Morgan Boyer
Rain upon me your turbulent tales of locker-side loves,
the gossip of girls whose braces still encase their molars
COMFORT FOODS // Gulyás – Liam Skillen
I look at a photo of my Hungarian grandfather and his compatriots in Carr Bank Park, posing by the flowerbeds on Woodhouse Road, and know it is possible to belong to more than a single place.
ONE POEM – Erin Vance
Just as Hemlock
digs its graves in the
carrot family plot
ONE POEM – Alex Stolis
because there’s no way he would ever find it,
being interested only in dinner/work/breakfast
/work/sex on demand/sleep/work.
COMFORT FOODS // Overheard at Terasa Obor – Ana Prundaru
the problem with mici is
they’re all so good
that they don’t even ask you
what you’re ordering
ONE POEM – Elizabeth Seven
So next time you feel so anxious that you can hardly unlock the door,
remember that the world holds your feet
TWO POEMS – KG Newman
First day of the World Series,
autumn hanging on, each tree
seeing who can keep from
being a skeleton the longest
COMFORT FOODS // Bombay Toast – Samarth Agarwal
I see you standing there – starch white lungi draped
7AM freshly shaved – wooden spoon in hand
Commanding your caramelising populace.
Porridge 