How did I used to write poetry? I thought I would go on forever. If the well only bubbled up with dead tropes and gray-faced images, at least they were comfortable. Better than nothing at all. Â But now I find myself rushing to lit theory class on a November Thursday. The smell of dead […]
I pause and rewind the Tiktokker, his hands dicing an onion paper thin. There is not one hiding among the murasaki sweet potatoes I am saving in the corner of the chipped pantry shelf, shallots substitute. They hit the skillet with a sizzle, the pale purple ghosts around the pan on a slip n’ slide
There’s absolutely nothing like the present Because when retold it is made up Edited in some shape or form You can not capture your emotion quite the same, your laugh or your pain All of those moments lay in different times  Remember when we… followed by laughter that could be heard from mil
By Fara Ling Ah Ma,     A few weeks ago, I realized I have never written Ah Ma a letter. That means I have never told Ah Ma I love you. There’s no way to say it in Hokkien, Ah Ma’s mother tongue. Forcing the syllables wa ai lu to sit next to […]
By Emma Gail Compton I made the table I eat dinner at. The wood was cheap but sturdy. The stain I chose is a dark oaky red and makes the small round table seem more expensive than it was. One could find something similar at any store, but this table, my table, I made. I […]
By Julia Voyt Pages and pages of 12 size Times New Roman are bled across the paper feverishly, introductions and statistics under methods and conclusions. Not eating food and my bicep is smaller this week I talk faster to my family and I write, write, write. The earth outside smells different and sw