Gulls at Todd’s Point Shivering, knowing how lines of the tide use seaweed, and sea-drift, and sea-touch (and bone) to etch with, I wait to be marked on the sand
One time I was in the checkout line at the grocery store, standing behind a dark-haired woman whose left arm was covered in tattoos. Another shopper—a young man wearing a…
King: April 7, 1968 We had wanted, at least, to touch your sleeve. We brought both babies as to a christening. —Van K. Brock, “King” We stood in line for…
Say something about the old neighbor who lives alone, the woman no one has seen in years, if at all. Say she cracked her yellowed shade and spoke to you,…
This week, get your literature on at Mission-famous events by Quiet Lightning, Sister Spit, and Literary Death Match, celebrate all things female at the San Francisco Women’s Film Festival, party…
Today’s poem is a translation of a poem by the late Mahmoud Darwish by Fady Joudah. It appears in the collection If I Were Another. Truth Has Two Faces and…