Cartoons taught me to laugh at violence. To see it as pattern, rhythm, inevitability. But back home, the patterns were bloodier.
INSIGHT
POETRY
walatta petros prays about desire
learning through hunger is still desire
MICRO
“Another Nameless Sea” and “Dear, Dirty Dublin,”
Neither of us
take comfort from worship, but how
else is a country sated?
TRANSLATION
Passage
Translated from Spanish by Coryna Ogunseitan
Get Our Newsletter
FOLLOW US ON:
RECENTLY PUBLISHED
Self-Portrait Through Many Doors
Self-portrait because I once saw a door and knew not to open. Because behind every door is a mouth, and the tongue, a road.
Galápagos: Environmental Impact Assessment
the smell of burning carpet like when a place someone lives is burning, photographs filling with black water before curling at the edges like hats.
From the Archives: Xiaogui / 小鬼
This is a different kind of dark than the one beneath a bedcover, more like the one inside a fist, a dark where we can’t see our own arms and can pretend for a while that we haven’t yet been booted from our mothers by that god who gets paid to kick girls out of the womb...
