K. Lorraine Kiidumae
Another August
“…And let’s go off sailing, my dear, with our spirits intertwined. Your body is just an old sandbar in a speeding hourglass of time.” From “I Am Full of Love Tonight” by Hafiz
There … Read the whole text
“…And let’s go off sailing, my dear, with our spirits intertwined. Your body is just an old sandbar in a speeding hourglass of time.” From “I Am Full of Love Tonight” by Hafiz
There … Read the whole text
Climbing the outside steps to Glynda’s apartment, Mick Garrity felt the gravity of experience slowing his step. The sky was spitting wet snow at him, paying him back for some screw up he could not put his finger … Read the whole text
The first time he made love to me, I was fifteen and Simon was eighteen. He visited me in Nkayi a few times before he introduced me to his uncle Mabhena and his family. Mabhena had … Read the whole text
Stars above Detroit
It was a cold and snowy December when I was handed the address of a “crack house” in one of the deserted and boarded up Detroit neighborhoods once inhabited by happy families whose source of livelihood … Read the whole text
Marcus took modest pride in the fact that his face looked like that of a mole rat. It was a face that only a mother could love, but truth be told, even his mother found it … Read the whole text
“I can’t believe that bus driver—accusing you of stepping in front of the bus like you’re trying to commit suicide. I should have punched him out.”
Shauna looked away, closing her eyes in shame. “You were so … Read the whole text
Anglo-Canadian poetry is, practically by definition, the work of the über-literate, the over-educated, the extraordinarily degreed and/or extra-doctorated, of the royally highest & most majestic I.Q.’d, those who are Mensa … Read the whole text