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.
Tag: 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.
ONE POEM – Morgan Boyer
Rain upon me your turbulent tales of locker-side loves,
the gossip of girls whose braces still encase their molars
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.
ONE POEM – Emilie Delcourt
one bright red strawberry on the strawberry plant
mist still low, tangled in the branches of olive trees
the way the pomegranates hang low
with the burden of their own weight
FICTION | Salvage – Ian C Smith
Faces are remembered, words spoken; that brief encounter at the fair, the smell of old sunlight a slow night train.
Porridge 