Up here, you’re just flecksin the emerald. Which I’d never sayto hurt you. I’m saying a hundred bodiesrunning through a field chasing onewind-whipped mustard sari——from “the mountains speak to the village”, Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.One of the oldest poems . . .
Read More
I am afraid that all my ancestorshave gathered my words like birds collect hair from the deadfor nesting, an abundance of silence, whole spools of it ready to tetherme to the trees.—from “Minidoka Was a Concentration Camp in Idaho”, Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about one of the first . . .
Read More
You know what we used to do? When we had a questions that we couldn’t answer? We carved them into bones. To ask the king. Will we be visited by sickness? Will we be visited by disaster? By harm? By evil?—From “Oracle Bones,” Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about . . .
Read More
lately I feel I belongto a mind so big— many calling it sacredothers, loveor breath—from “The Older, the More”, Winter 2018 (Vo. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.As a college senior, I was lucky to be in UCLA’s first Asian American Studies class, “Orientals in . . .
Read More
Myvaginawantstoknifefightyou.—from “To the Gentleman Who Catcalls Me Without Fail Every Morning on My Way to Work”, Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.The Babysitter’s Club fanfiction. Well, they were sort of fanfiction. Being the only daughter of former refugees from Laos, I had to . . .
Read More
From To Kill a Mockingbird, I learn the word “chifforobe.” My grandmother has a lacquer chest, a chifforobe, in her bedroom. She claims it is the only object she brought with her from Korea. —from “Heirloom”, Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.When I . . .
Read More
“That was the question the protagonists of the cartoon show King of the Hill asked the Lao character Kahn Souphanousinphone when he debuted on March 2, 1997—even after he’d explained where he and his family were from in elaborate detail. Twenty years later, that question continues to encapsulate Lao American refugees’ enduring frustration when . . .
Read More
Set the dove free and tryto call it back within a year.How do you love a bird so muchyou cage it? If I were that birdI’d sing all day. With the right song,I’ll dance my bones down.—from “My Therapist Asks If I would Be Happier If I Were Straight”, Winter 2018 (Vol. . . .
Read More
Early mornings, I waited for the school bus, tiny hands claspingthin backpack straps, lunch inside a crinkled brown paper bag, tacky white fluff & peanut butter stuck to the cheap Ziploc. The bus arrivedat 7:05 a.m. The yellow morning light was a warm puddle — soft, I could touch it. —from “It . . .
Read More
There you stood, eye to the photograph looking at theplace you’re in without you. Am I feeling elegiacor algebraic again. A violence from within protectsfrom a violence without.—from “On Memorial”, Winter 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 4) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.I’m not sure if this question is . . .
Read More