Issues

Yusuf

In Issue 1: In Transit

Zain Bandali

trapped in a moving trainknee to knee with an archangel sun radiating off sandy complexionmanicured stubble lining jawline sharp and effortlesstaste of blood floods to my mouth Ya Khaaliq, You are the... Read more

Time Machine

In Issue 1: In Transit

Nur Al-Mouna

A time travel machine. It might sound futuristic, something science fiction writers spend pages and pages imagining. In fact, I have seen one. I will try to describe it for you, in case you have seen ... Read more

Moose

In Issue 1: In Transit

Anonymous

From the fourteenth floor, you can see how much has changed down at King and Victoria. The skyline is filled with condos. But also, along the plateau of the train tracks: a patch of hill, a shopping c... Read more

Culture

In Issue 1: In Transit

Samantha Estoesta Williams

The first time I saw Apo Tudo, The Ilocano rain deity, I swear, he sent mist to that mountain Outside of Baguio Kissing the Filipino soil with sweet promises and tearful memories My grandmother share... Read more

Doorway Effect / Dadar Station

In Issue 1: In Transit

Nitica Sakharwade

Indira Gandhi Airport (New Delhi), 19th Oct 2016 The seat belt sign is lit. I stare at the screen, struggling to choose a movie. Baba must be reaching home joining Aai for a cup of chai. ... Read more

Duality

In Issue 1: In Transit

Connor Chin-Quee

“Where are you from?” Usually, people don’t believe that I’m Jamaican, on account of me not having an accent, not speaking patwa—and also not being Black. They don’t generally have a probl... Read more

The Mosaic of Brokenness

In Issue 1: In Transit

Jennifer Drews

(today) I cried, driving to the grocery store, for no reason, other than, I remembered (so when does it end?) When I am accomplished and successful, is that when I feel whole again? I desper... Read more

Treatment

In Issue 1: In Transit

Anonymous

It’s six am, I didn’t sleep, I got a dozen phone calls on my cell. She’s ready for treatment. “I’ll meet you at eight,” she said. So I made the phone calls. I fo... Read more

Cerasee

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Omi Ra

“Dawn! Come put on yuh shoes!” Dawn’s mother exclaimed from the kitchen, a small room at the back of the house where a portable kerosene stove and a tall eggshell white fridge fed the family of ... Read more

The Tower

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Connor Chin-Quee

Looking down to the ground below, wind whips around my body. The gravity allures me, asking me to take the step forward, asking me to throw it all away. I am reassured; my heart gives way to apathy. T... Read more

It was not your fault

In Issue 2: Space(s)

L.S.

trigger warning for gender-based violence When it is quietand the lightsare out, I whisper“it was not your fault”I repeat itagainandagainuntilsometimesI believe it.Fake ituntilyou make itRight?Ac... Read more

Policing the Pandemic

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Niara van Gaalen Seemab Zahra Yasmeen Nematt Alla Tomi A. Ryan Antooa

When the first wave of COVID-19 in March 2020 set off emergency orders in Ontario, police departments were given increased powers to enforce public health measures that called for self-isolation and physical distancing. Neighbours were also encouraged to police each other through the use of “snitch-lines”, and an expanded state of surveillance was assumed as a new normal. This deepened pre-existing police presence and control in neighbourhoods where more poor, Black, Indigenous, and immigrant communities live. KW Article Club, a reading group and art collective based in Waterloo Region, informed by work from local and international Black activists and organizers, sought to address these structural inequities in March 2020 through a zine titled #PolicingThePandemic. The following feature is an adapted version of that zine that adds two pieces that delve into the impact policing has on Black people, making a case for why we continue to strive towards a future where we prioritize care instead of enforcement. Read more

Two Poems

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Nitica Sakharwade

Listen to Nitica read her poems: Textile · Nitica Sakharwade - Aaji / between my fascia hides griefAaji / between my fascia hides grief Textile · Nitica Sakharwade - Did You? a contrapu... Read more

Fleece Brutality

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Ryan Antooa

Say it loudFor those with fabrics of beingTattered, brokenReturning to the Earth they were sewn fromFor those who wishTheir bodies were wrapped in cloth dyed differentlyNot having dying instantlyWith ... Read more