essays | fiction | poetry | photography | art
The train leans through
the Highland line, Inverness
to Fearn, wheat either side.
This carriage bows for you.
“Ignorance produces hate, knowing is the best way to tackle ignorance, and empathy is the only path to love.”
‘She named the major constellations
while I gawked at them and reached out to touch.’
I’ve tried planting potatoes since you left,
but they never grow the way they did for you.
Lorighittas are a type of pasta made in one small village, Morgongiori, on a side of a mountain on the east of Sardinia. Only the women of this village, and only some of them, know how to make lorighittas. A lorighitta is effectively a woven pasta made from a dough of semolina and water. Each…
I imagine turning into
a flamingo, likes the ones
on my onesie that I’m dying
to wear.
‘I fear that I will never find relief’
i was scared to make this poem /
treat them right / they never
came close to meeting in life
Those are some peoples’ stories, some peoples’ histories, but they aren’t ours.
“You can call me Mr. S,” my ninth-grade biology teacher told the class on our first day, “for the sssss a snake makes.” Eyes sunken behind wirerimmed glasses, he had a wide mouth with no lips that I recall, and long, stubble-blue cheeks like leather stretched tight to the bone. While he lectured, a red…
We are looking for names,
that a laughing god
could call us by.
We today tend to remember Ezra Pound (1885-1972) for the immense density and erudition of his work. Pound’s many preoccupations included Confucius, medieval China, Bertrand de Born, the Provençal period, ancient Egypt, the beauty of the Farsi tongue, and his fellow early twentieth-century modernists. Of course, we also remember many unpleasant things about the man,…
Porridge 