May 2023

On top of the lamppost we saw a buzzard There is an awful patience in the waiting. The stillness....

On a late Sunday afternoon, after a date, I leave a house in Rue Gaston Gallimard. The cobwebbed stairwell gives...

The Bathers #10 I never tire of this rhythm though it wears down shards of glass, and there are...

I Protest  For Ateke Rajabi* Greetings to you  Look at me carefully I am a protestor— an elementary school...

4th & Chapel Open house prayer rooms near St. John’s cemetery each one offers a little taste of God’s...

Superstitions reside within us as long as we feel incapable of dealing with our never-ending desires which seem unachievable...

Father Sampson took me in after I passed out on the curb outside his church. He let me use...

     When I was thirteen, I saw a man sitting on a bench overlooking the Santa Barbara Pier. I sat...

He wasn’t a Bengali and hadn’t written any literature in the language as well. Yet during the Colonial era,...

Mouth Is my mouth made of glass shards you use to pierce delicate dreams seep into waking hours: diaphanous...