New World Writing Quarterly

It is dif­fi­cult to despair com­plete­ly while hold­ing an umbrella.

A small house of ribs and fab­ric, sprung open with a click, lift­ed like a mod­est crown above the head. In Tokyo where I live, they are every­where: out­side sta­tions –more

Stillbirth The night, awake with silence, bathed in dark­ness.Blue corn and yel­low moon. Soft palm, unmov­ing. Coldfeet, point­ing towards heav­en. It is rain­ing again, thistime with a dry sky and wet eyes. Effluent nose. Tiredwomb. Death is born again. Unwashed. Unwanted. Unwanted. Unwashed. Death is born again. Tired

womb. Effluent nose. Wet eyes and this time with a dry sky,
It is rain­ing again. Pointing towards heav­en, cold feet. Un-
mov­ing, soft palms. Yellow moon and blue corn. Bathed in
dark­ness, long with silence, awake, the night.

~

Wisdom –more

Breakfast Room

She can tell by the scent who uses the hotel-pro­vid­ed lotion, who brought their own. Some of the break­fasters are clear­ly try­ing to bal­last them­selves for the day ahead; oth­ers stick to the diet from home. The –more

a.

The dead pos­sess and are obsessed with bod­ies. I know this because once I turned six­ty-five, my body turned on me with appari­tions crouch­ing at every crooked turn my body took, drool­ing to repo it. My hands became my mother’s. –more

American Goddess

When we returned to Guangzhou for vis­its, all the aunts and uncles bum­bled against each oth­er to lay down their offer­ings of dried per­sim­mons, fra­grant lychees, can­died papayas in crin­kle paper and cop­per coins around Ah Ma who sighed, –more

Dermaflash Luxe Anti-Aging Sonic Dermaplaning Exfoliation Tool, in Pop Pink

The ad in the mag­a­zine at the eye doctor’s office says the peach fuzz on my face must be mowed, that these tee­ny-tiny hairs obscure my true beau­ty. –more

Tonight, in the mer­lot-stained cottage,
we hurl crumbs at the wildfowls
from cran­ber­ry-bruised windows—
we must be timely.
Candied apples, cream cheese, pump­kin butter—
we store pies in ceram­ic –more

Legacy

It was rain­ing when­ev­er my grand­par­ents vis­it­ed my great-grand­fa­ther. Shrubs bloomed pink, white and pur­ple. Everything glis­tened, and the mag­ic of the cut glass door­knob which felt too sharp for my hand opened into –more

This Moment
for the Piperno family

1. Blessed Is.

There is no future with­out memory.
There is no future with­out feeling
ful­ly the moment in which we live.
At bad news we bless the One True Judge.
At good news we bless the One –more

StellaSue hat­ed the name her mama assigned her and then the one her hus­band gave her not long before he gave her bruis­es and three babies she didn’t nec­es­sar­i­ly ask for in such quick suc­ces­sion that she nick­named her­self “The Chute.”

“That’s –more

Postcard
             Radnoti’s Coat

Miklos, the weath­er is here and your postcards.
The ink, soaked from the slow melt of your body,
has run from black to watery blue, and I’m thinking
of your trench coat, that if bul­lets were –more