By this author
Culture November 14, 2020
Two poems
“Language no longer speaks to me. / Though I see its many bodies, I cannot be / Reached. When I return, I shudder in this God-given air / Praise what remains. Outside, a man has built a kookaburra / Fifteen feet tall, and put a laugh inside / Big enough …”
poetry March 07, 2020
[Y]our people [Y]our problems
I have never had a country willing to claim me as its own. Sit with me as I sit with that. Hold my hand. Our knees can touch across the loneliness, which, at least and at last, wants nothing of us. I heard a man and a woman have a public spat. …
Poetry April 04, 2020
Diary of a Non-Essential Worker
Did you know violins can shake the earth? Such sweet vessels, tiny planetary throats. I was sent an orchestra. They made music, a sorrow, a soaring, that shivered the dirt. I followed the notes to a barbarism. The composer said he created the beautiful …
Poetry February 08, 2020
American Dirt
The once-white lady dipped her hands into a faceless mass at the border she said, I’m the one to give you a face as if she wasn’t the one who stole it in the first place, someone must humanise the mass, the migrant caravan, the …
Take a stand
while sitting down.
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