I. Spirit and Form Kimiko Hahn’s poem opens with an acknowledgment and a riddle. As the title makes clear, the poem does not take the form of a sestina. There will be no kaleidoscopic sestets or plaiting of six end-words, no envoi or tornata to call them together in a final, fitting constellation of [Continue Reading…]
Raw Raw, Eat Your News, ““In the Spirit of a Sestina”” Something found sometimes fuels a fountain of thought. Some thought, something round, at times fills a mountain. A mountain of thought is a thing circled around, at least six times, by you, mourning angels.
Spiderweb The chief of the Soda Creek Indian Band likened the area touched by the spill to a spiderweb * I live in northern Alberta, home of the tar sands—a series of giant pits of mucky bitumen mixed with the earth in a way that is incredibly difficult and destructive to extract. [Continue Reading…]
In the Spirit of a Sestina where she was drugged. She said she woke up naked As in many brothels, the torture of choice was electric shocks The jolt causes intense pain, sometimes evacuation of the bladder and bowel – and even unconsciousness. Shocks After the beatings and shocks, Sina said [Continue Reading…]
Kimiko Hahn “In the Spirit of a Sestina” “From the Clipping Morgue a monostich sequence” Cressida J. Heyes “Spiderweb” Kyoo Lee “Raw Raw, Eat Your News, ”In the Spirit of a Sestina”” Wendy Anne Lee Iping Liang Keijiro Suga Scott Thurston Ryan Lee Wong “‘Everyone Does It’ Just [Continue Reading…]
Dear Arthur— Thank you so kindly for participating in the Asian American Literary Review’s mentorship program. I am so honored and grateful for this opportunity to speak and work with you. I do not have any formal education in poetics and what I have learned has been mostly self-taught via the abundance housed in libraries—so [Continue Reading…]
My Ulysses(s) The road that leads me to you is safe even when it runs into oceans. —Edmond Jabès * Then, as if breathing, the sea swelled beneath us. If you must know anything, know that the hardest thing is to live only once. That a woman on a sinking ship becomes a life [Continue Reading…]
Leila Farsakh The smell of sadness overwhelms the place. Palestine is sad and so is my father. For the first time I face the fact that my father might die and that his death will pain me. For the first time I confront the idea of his loss and the loss of Palestine. I no [Continue Reading…]
Varun Gauri The day began unpleasantly: my brother-in-law won the Nobel Peace Prize. I was sitting in the lobby of the Dresden when my phone rang. Rebecca asked if I was sitting down and then, conspiratorially, “Are you alone?” Apparently, the Norwegian fellow had asked Oscar the same question; and Rebecca couldn’t help but reenact [Continue Reading…]
In Kabul, we napped every afternoon, a two-hour siesta that made up for the fact that we had risen before dawn with the mosque loudspeaker’s first call to prayer. As with most things in Afghanistan, naps were easy to enter, difficult to get out of.