Carpool
The streets were eternal back thenback when back seat was a canopy of armsstretched out like the solsticethe thump of tire on chewed cementjolting the deviance from feeble bodiesMomma was no pilot, bu... Read more
She Gets There
It took her fourteen years to get back to a city. It wasn’t a big city, but hey, it had a bus. Refreshing Google Maps every minute, she prays that all her transfers connect. And there’s no street ... Read more
Yusuf
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
Translator's Note
The translation of the Arabic pieces in this magazine was a collaborative effort. Most often, the author wrote a rough English translation that I edited and later passed on for review with other nativ... Read more
Culture
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
Time Moves Both Ways
Last summer, my wife and I rode our bikes together along the Cambridge to Paris rail trail—an eighteen kilometer venture alongside an out-of-use train track. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fitness q... Read more
A Plate Away
Listen to Tyra read from her piece: Textile · Tyra Forde - A Plate AwayMy grandparents have lived in the same three-bedroom house in Cambridge since they immigrated to Canada from Bridgetown, Barbado... Read more