for Oluwatoyin Salau, for Breonna Taylor, for Cyntoia Brown, for Tameka Drummer, for Anjanette Young, for all of us whose names I wish had first floated from m... Read More.
I.
I was being led by something. So tender and raw inside of my body that I can’t point to a specific place — there was me before I had ever seen a dam. And the... Read More.
Do you have an elderly parent who has fallen victim to internet conspiracy theories? Has your politically moderate loved one begun spewing racist and militant r... Read More.
Humza went to school with me in Kohat. We were always competing with each other for the first position in class. His father was in the army, and he’d just gotte... Read More.
The week the pandemic hits, I break my lease in Little Haiti and drive fifteen hours up the I-95 to be with my parents. My father has bad lungs and I’m scared t... Read More.
This country is motherless and makes me forget I am not. Two weeks or more since a call. To be in America, You must see American, close your eyes and dream Ame... Read More.
Every morning the sparrows sing
Every day there is another funeral
I am a fraud
A mouth is always open: 口
The tongue declares itself: زبان
... Read More.
The Coop in August
The form asks for my job. Stay-at-home-parent, a response given by the dozen, lands wrong these months. I hold a prism over the words, bendth... Read More.
No One is Taking the Doughnut Shortage Seriously (and all that that implies)
— or the ketchup packet oneover in the adjacent deli, the dearth of good strawberri... Read More.
In 1996, the year my mother died of a heroin overdose, Purdue Pharma started to sell OxyContin in the United States. The company aggressively marketed and promo... Read More.
This disappearing, how it makes house become island, as inland pushes outland. Outlandish, you say, this push and pull—in your hurricane’s eye, everything calms... Read More.
I want my story to be ordinary. for Andrea C. Ruiz Costas and Keishla M. Rodríguez Ortiz
Nicole Arocho Hernández grew up in Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico... Read More.
In Bad Faith
Elsewhere a bell rings medieval in its calling and here
I fumble for a reliquary, any bit of cloth or bone
my religion left m... Read More.
Quail rise in ruffles from the sage. Pebbles I scraped into my knee look like they belong there. A minor abrasion, something to settle with alcohol. My pants c... Read More.