Projection

Projection this is what it’s like to be black it is like being a projector screen and everyone that you meet is a projector forcing themselves on you—calling it light and, when what they see reflected back is angry, dumb, pitiful, pornographic, violent, inhuman they tell themselves it is you they are seeing but that’s… Read More

Confirmation

Confirmation At church there’s a ceremony: Wednesday classes, mentors, blessings-- then the formal Sunday service. In other forms of life? Maybe the confirmation is when the barista knows your order, the bartender says this one’s on her, your partner lets your habit go, frustrated but knowing it’s just part of who you are. When you… Read More

Projection

Projection this is what it’s like to be black it is like being a projector screen and everyone that you meet is a projector forcing themselves on you—calling it light and, when what they see reflected back is angry, dumb, pitiful, pornographic, violent, inhuman they tell themselves it is you they are seeing but that’s… Read More

Godless Grovel

  Godless Grovel My brain feels swollen like any thought is too much to hold, and my chest rumbles and bubbles like boiling water waiting to overflow. My face is hot. My mind is full, and I wish for it all to stop. I put my hands together to pray to a higher thing-- being--… Read More

Puppet

  Puppet My face is laced with pen, green Marked lines sweet-talking my nose and eyelids. Pudgy not paper crisp, they itch for precision. I pass by goddesses placed on Subway booths, their lunar skin absent of craters captured in one operatic shot Indulged by comments. Pudgy not paper crisp, my flesh won’t Find its… Read More

A Balancing Act

  A Balancing Act I collect currency, ruffling land-of-the-free Money and trade rupees for this Home, no cold showers, no fish gutted open by Amma in her bun, Tied in oil and strangled by love For her children. My daughter smacks English as frequently As gloss, her lips curving in disgust at Hindi prunes— she… Read More

Action

       

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Waiting for Two Words to Pierce My Ears

Waiting for Two Words to Pierce My Ears I ponder silently, while viewing splinters of my soul scatter into the unknown. Goosebumps flutter across my skin, it tickles ever so slightly. Shivers race down my spine chasing after swiftly, as they are now “it.” My diaphragm raises and decompresses at a steady rate, with grass… Read More

Woman in Phone Booth

Woman in Phone Booth In the interval between What's glimpsed and what's unseen, Between the hidden and the big reveal, There's a kind of ballet. You feel That everyone's complicit: The passersby, the looker and the looked-at, who each elicit A grin or frown of disapproval. And at the center of it all A woman… Read More