you don’t believe your queer friend could do this to your other queer friend. you don’t believe your father could do this to your mother. you don’t believe your mother could do this to your sibling. you don’t believe your teacher could you don’t believe your best...
In wielding the gun the gunman becomes a new kind of compound noun, capable only of indirect action: the expression of hatred, making of threats, rending of clothes. In wielding the gun the gunman becomes a new kind of compound noun, capable only of indirect action:...
Who can resist the chance to climb into another skin? Into myth-spit caricature? A sideshow mockery in felt-dripped-fringe? Who can resist the chance to climb into another skin? Into myth-spit caricature? A sideshow mockery in felt-dripped-fringe? A technicolor...
“A ballad for messy brown girls” is the honourable mention of Room’s Poetry and Fiction Contest 2018 as selected by judge Vivek Shraya. Brown girls with combed out curls that frizz and fly and fuzz, Baby hair halos, - angels - of the 43 Kennedy bus.i Shorts that...
Aunt: f. from the Latin amita 1. small creatures that can carry more than their share 1.2 stand-in mothers (who can’t hold seventeen hours of labour over you) 2. photo filler used for major childhood moments: christenings, communions, etc. 3. antonym ex-aunts: members...
Everything’s late this year.
Nothing’s dissolved since my last visit to Waterloo—
an evening at the park staring at geese
and we took turns
pushing each other on swings,
pretending we were children.
Lisa, the most beautiful cousin, the 80s flip of dark blonde hair, shiny cotton candy lip gloss, tight striped sweater, squeezing 7-year-old me in that Polaroid, my wild curly ‘fro against her cheek, she had an even, radiant smile, while I was missing four teeth. With...
i wear my trauma like a badge over my heart an enamel pin that tells the world i have seen hell, and i am still here i wear my trauma like a badge over my heart an enamel pin that tells the world i have seen hell, and i am still here i have survived sometimes i am...
we sit the two of us you face the tv we sit the two of us you face the tv i take turns glancing at your face as i raise my bowl to drink the soup there are war torn cries from the screen not loud enough to disturb the silence between us the actress on that screen more...
your lips they twist perceptions in an instant. your lips they twist perceptions in an instant. my ink stained fingertips try to make sense of it and all the things you say, all the things you do you seem to forget. when i was younger you loved me because i had the...