A Breaking Open of the Belly
We are still here Aimé, us the niggers of the north An otherness-nothingness imprisoned in our minds by our […]
We are still here Aimé, us the niggers of the north An otherness-nothingness imprisoned in our minds by our […]
Seven Mountains For my maternal grandmother That moment when you see spring on your windowsill you have […]
Man on a Rocking Chair in San Juan In San Juan I found a man rocking on his balcony, […]
You will be the midwife To whatever little I have, You will be the midwife To what […]
Harsh, but stay with me.
This issue is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Abby Lippman (1939-2017). “As we were preparing to go […]
After Mark Rothko’s Untitled (Red on Red), 1969 Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, Peace Pavilion
Since human beings are eminently perishable, they seem to have an obsession for permanence. It is normal for people […]
Musée Rodin, 1972 I saw this body I am sure of it. Flesh and bronze. In one long stare, […]
Cayo Santa Maria (Written in Cayo Santa Maria, Cuba in February 2017, right after meditation on the beach) […]
Chronic Fatigue System Too tired to exercise (who gets mono in their 50s?), endorphins droop and symptoms of menopause […]
Peuple dilué investigates the psychology of bodies untethered to borders and regions. Originally inspired by the Roma population of Sutka, Macedonia, this on-going series explores the idea of a people versus a nation and transient identities.
Seule et honteuse dans mon lit
I believe that poets have a moral responsibility to speak up for those whose own voices have been suppressed or altogether silenced.
Can I look down and see my ageing, knuckled hands…
He drove me in a TATA cab through the streets of Old and New Delhi. The air […]
Ellipse I am the chaos of my father’s order I am the conscience of his delight I am the […]
I came looking for you on the streets of Montparnasse boulevard Arago, rue Saint-Jacques, rue Mouffetard, boulevard Raspail place […]
Canadian poetry The birds are quiet here. They do not shout or bang about the window openings. They are […]
Woman in the dream of the pink house I listen to you tell, Éloïse. Years before this […]