A warning forthwith: I’m retired, and therefore have the fool’s freedom of free play, that is, I have the right to only deal with the literature I like anymore! And I want to start with a quote of the great German-American anthropologist at Columbia University, New York, Franz Boas. He said in 1905: “If we… Continue reading Racism, Travel and the Noble Savage in Translation by Margaret Saine
Artwork by Amy Bassin At night the wind blows without great force but the slight, constant breeze makes it necessary for her to wear the cloth overcoat. It is a fine old coat. A happy coat given to her by a happy mother. She cannot pull the sides of the coat together to button it… Continue reading LUNAR LAMENT by Mark Blickley
I am alone in this glass house we had built on the crest of a mountain within the forest. The Covid pandemic has risen to proportions which have sent me reeling back to our resthouse where I lost you one evening at a party when you decided to leap into the dark forest and leave… Continue reading Distillations by Shalom Galve Aranas
Hope New life new leaf new page new phase new phrase erase the rage that ate the void called heart that hurt
Like I can’t breathe Like the air doesn’t reach my lungs Like the lump in my throat chokes me Like my heart is buried under a mountain
I (This is a narrative poem in four parts written from the perspective of a long- term resident of the Sundarbans whose livelihood is wrecked by the recent Cyclone Amphan. In the time of an ongoing pandemic it is a calamity upon a calamity.) I grabbed the rope,As I neared the shore,And threw its working… Continue reading Mayhem In The Mangroves by Tasnima Yasmin
I put my heart into my mother’s coffin and now it throbs under the ground. All the letters I sent to my first love returned unread in my mailbox
(To my mother who could not love me) I was the best daughter-slave, but she snubbed me.
Children bore of cave paintings Typing on phones on a field trip Talking back to their teachers And giving them some lip.
Dear Impending Sense of Doom Dear Impending Sense of Doom, Hello again. It has been less than eight hours since we last spoke.