Shave Ice

For two summers straight I sold shave ice to sunscreen-slathered Northerners who arrived in droves to the beaches of Florida with the seagulls that circled like vultures overhead. It was good business for me and the seagulls. When the sky was clear and the temperature broke one hundred degrees, the tourists sweating white bullets would

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Privileged Exile

You read the words of Mahmoud Darwish, his nostalgia, revolution and melancholia swirl the desert dust over times and places to reach your eye. Yes, I swear. This is how the tear settled on my dry cheek. And Nizar Qabbani whose eroticism, love and poetic (but also political) fight for social justice make you tingle

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