from ( g h o s t g e s t u r e s )

The doll was small, about a foot long, with a cloth body and a 1920s-style, plastic Kewpie face. She was pitch-black like the new moon.



Cartographies of Heartache

I have been visiting prisons as long as I can remember and have lost count of the number of times my picture may have been taped to the wall of a cell. Visits Upstate meant early morning departures on the weekends. Trips to the County meant mostly middle of the day and evenings. Geography lessons of heartache experienced through small towns and cartographies of captivity. Same waiting spaces. Same security wanding and invasions. Folding your arms over your underwire is supposed to silence the screeching of the hand-held metal detector. Some correctional officers invested in showing that you are just another number attached to the number of someone deemed less than human.




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Paper umbrellas in different colors hanging from string

Digital Ballad of the Real Mulan

The Education Bureau bans protest anthems & the chanting of slogans & the forming of human chains & anything with a strong beat & the use of the blues including electric guitar electric bass electric organ electric piano in Hong Kong schools.


Story of My Hands

While my mother was on the phone with one of her long-distance lovers, I spent the afternoon looking at hands in magazines.


Image shows two imperfect ice cubes illuminated in blue light on a dark red reflective surface.

“Almost” and Two Poems

the whale doesn’t move // the sea fills its stomach // with things that cannot sing


A photograph of a feline mouth opened wide, its fangs visible in the dark.

Cravings

I helped you
up and gnawed
what was left to the core.