CURRENT ISSUE 5.1
OUR PAST ISSUES
EXPLORE BY GENRE
MY CITY OF CIRCUMSTANCE
by AISHA WAZIRI GALADIMA (Nigeria)
The mountains are special, people have learnt. So now people visit them accompanied with dynamite
故乡 IN RETROSPECTION
by CLAIRE HE (United States)
you yourself love to pretend you remember your own birthplace
WHITE CLOVER ROOTS
by ERIN COULL (Australia)
How can I call myself Australian
when I live on stolen land?
THE BREEZE IN MY HAIR ON A MOTORCYCLE
by MUSKA EHSAN (Afghanistan)
For once, I befriended the night's darkness and calm, realizing even the dark carries a light.
HEAVEN ON EARTH
by SOPHIA RAINES (United States)
My mom slaps down some more dough in front of me. To eat, you must create.
ON FALSE SPRING AND THE HERRING RUN
by GENEVIEVE SMITH (United States)
Herring fish gather in the shallow stream behind the lake and through the trees.
THE EARLY DAYS
by FATIMA MOHIUDDIN (Pakistan)
The last move (the best move, the worst move, The Move) was almost four years ago
IN THE SPIDER WEB
by KEREN-HAPPUCH GARBA (Nigeria)
The stories they tell me spill out a feeling that the spider web defines perfectly.
SMALL BLAZE IN A ROARING FIRE
by AMALOU OUASSOU (Morocco)
We think it was a lit cigarette
flicked off the wrist of a driver, racing past
THE FORWARD MARCH OF LIFE
by ALENA LIN (Singapore)
With plates of food in hand, you are forced to greet vaguely familiar faces.
A DYING LAND
by EZIMADU UGORJI (Nigeria)
The children call it "Reverend Father" because the flock of white feathers at its neck seems like the collar on a priest's black cloak.
ANNOTATIONS ON 《静夜思》
by LINDA KONG (United States)
moonlight kisses the clouds. It rings, the moonlight, like church bells striking.
POCKETS OF CITY
by TIFFANY LEONG (United States)
I knew Chinatown best on Saturdays,
the November kind
by IZRAHMAE SUICO (The Philippines)
Today, nature is fit in an open, square bus window with Mama obstructing the moving, alfresco greenery.
ODE TO A CURTAIN
by NURA OROOJI (South Africa)
Waterfalls of cream and white,
with leafy laced foam
by LAUREN TEH (United Arab Emirates)
Soft sliding susurrations, light lift of page,
A sigh, a huff, a breath, murmurs in the murky quiet
IMMIGRANT GOES BACK
by NEERAJA KUMAR (India)
Why does the sky appear black from the airplane
even though its sweltering noon on the ground?
by CHRIS LIM (The Philippines)
Jeepney Smoke seeps through the iron rail
to keep him bloodshot. He burrows in the neck