by Dia Roth
My mother leaves behind paperwhites, gifts
for my dog in her handwriting,
books of poetry, no note. I mine them
for semi-precious stones,
admissions of remorse, scabs picked
off and left behind, but come up Continue reading
Paperwhites
Fragments of Memory
by Satish Prabasi
(from Fragments of Memory: A Nepali National’s Reminiscences)
We Nepalese have always been proud of our independence. The mountain people from the north descended to the malaria-infested southern lowlands in search of timber, oilseeds, and legumes, and they gradually colonized the strip of land called the Terai. Baba was one of the people who came down from the western hill village of Jhiltung, and over the years he acquired a hundred acres of land near the border with India. He called this piece of land “the abode of Govinda,” or Govindpur, named after Vishnu, the Hindu god of prosperity. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
A Deep & Gorgeous Thirst
by Hosho McCreesh
(from A Deep & Gorgeous Thirst)
At the chalet
and you’re guzzling down
bombers of Farmer beer,
and the occasional measure
of Lagavulin, and
Rachmaninov’s 2nd is
booming out of the
old record player, and
it’s snowing again
in the Alps. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
After World War II
by Karin M. Gertsch
The rhythm of my early childhood was as regulated as the Swiss clock chiming on the wall in our foyer in Cologne. Then one day, when I was six years old, my grandmother was forced to change the course of our lives. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
Give Me a Dog Named Outrage
by AE Hines
No fuzzy face
resting on furry paws,
no whimpering from the floor.
Give me a fury,
with rusted metal whiskers
and nostrils heaving flame,
something nether-worldly and gnarled. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
