Monsoon

The vast flood  Rolls onward But yield yourself, And it floats you upon it – Ikkyū Sōjun, tr. R. H. Blyth The first drops were sweet against his hands. They tapped at him gently, first at his wrist, then his shoulder, then his face, as though to get his attention. He had expected them; the

The 9th and 10th of August

The 9th of August I water echinacea and watch melons grow. I find the scattered feathers of Turkeys in the  morning, and the blood dripped dried below. I watch infinity’s strata unfold as keets corralled  amass and grow into spotted Guinea Fowl.  I recall, remember, am reminded  of the depth of space, the tininess of

Random At Moments

1 The day I lost my iPhone, credit cards, a photo, a student ID, a residence permit and the purse that contained them all, I was with a friend who was visiting Berlin for fall break from Vienna. We used to sit on the bench every night, drinking enough “përlinër bilsnër” to fill up Spok’s

End of Decade

(translated from Portuguese)   31 December 2020 Unborn moon of winter: There is no more I to summon you. I’ve passed through the oceanic waters of the continent And see you now – it is summer.    The beings who roam and vest Phrases and verbs and ecstasys Live, moon! Live! Like me.    The

Hide and Seek

I crept into the dark, vacant stairwell, the source of many family ghost stories and nightmares. The wind vibrated through the walls. The ocean was so close I could hear its hum even here. Time felt slower in the dark, I couldn’t see the change of things, flies in the dust or the dandelion behind

Candle Soup

The sterile metal of the needle pushed against my skin. It probed the quivering tissue, like a ripe grape. Then with skin pillowing around the tip, it sank beneath the surface. I suppressed a wince. It wasn’t so much the needle as what I knew was waiting for me in the next hour: crushing immobility

Memories on the Train

On the train I move at birdish speeds. I see buildings blur into living embers, points stretched into foreign conversation and foreign frames and the infinity of presence upon my sight. And the train too is looking, spawns a second set of eyes, mirrors me in its glass. My doppelgänger in the window glides in

Sculpting Memory

Our memories are sculpted through the constant wrestling of forgetfulness and remembrance. Time is given a name and calendarized; we make sense of our past, present, and future as triplet brothers identified under the deceivingly named “I”. This universe of being sometimes talks about the weather twice a day, filling in gaps created by silence.