• Poetry

    “Bird” by Jenna Le

    January 13, 2020 /

    We heard her                              and came running

    We heard her

    wings blurred

    We heard her                               fly up the metal chute

    only to find herself                      self-entrapped in our laundry room

    self-buried in our linen hoard

    her exit route barred

    We heard her                                throat burr

    We heard her

    wings blurred                                so we came running

    feet bare on the red-carpeted stairs

    We heard her                                so we herded her

    We harried her                              toward an opened window, a soft sunlit square

    amid the hard boards

    We hurried her                              and harried her

    and herded her                             toward the open air

    our broom-waving horde             must have seemed to her a horror

    for all that we                                heralded                                                     her liberty

    *

    Jenna Le authored Six Rivers (NYQ Books,
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  • Art and Photography,  Poetry,  Translation

    Two poems by Allan Popa (translated from the Filipino by Bernard Capinpin) Artwork by Lorina Tayag Capitulo

    December 23, 2019 /

     

     

    Narrative

     

    I wish to be a monk
    is what I often tell anyone
    whom I want to befriend.

    The kind that doesn’t show himself to others
    for solitude is prayer.

    I would not be surprised if they mention
    that a dream not far from my own
    had once entered their minds.

    If it had been in the aisle of a monastery where we
    had first met, perhaps, we would have paused together

    at a single bead of a mystery we recited on our way
    back to each of our own cells at the corner
    to bow for a moment as a recognition

    that we have already met
    although it is only our hands that can be seen.

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  • Interviews

    “Interview with Helon Habila” by LaVonne Roberts

    December 14, 2019 /

    Helon Habila‘s fourth novel, Travelers, is a novel about African Diaspora in Europe. Told through a series of interlinking narratives, an unnamed Nigerian scholar’s experiences with migrants in transit, the real question Travelers asks is: what is home? Originally from Nigeria, Habila lives and teaches creative writing in the US at George Mason University and is the author of Waiting for an Angel, Measuring Time, Oil on Water, 

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  • Book Reviews

    “Travelers by Helon Habila” Reviewed by LaVonne Roberts

    December 14, 2019 /

    What is it like to be a refugee? Around the world, 70.8 million people have been forcibly displaced. It’s hard to fathom the terrible extent of the refugee crisis, but Habila captures the humanity of his characters in a way that newspapers can’t. Travelers comes at a time when Americans are being forced to reckon with what our country is becoming, what values we truly hold dear. Habila’s stories parallel anti-immigrant narratives being espoused in the U.S. and globally today.

    Helon Habila started working on Travelers in 2013, when in Berlin on a one-year fellowship.

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  • Prose,  Translation

    “All About Youth” by Fumiki Takahashi (translated from the Japanese by Toshiya Kamei)

    November 25, 2019 /

    All About Youth

    Takehiko Nomi was behind the wheel of the Audi iX, and we drove up a lush green mountain road. The sunbeams shimmered through the trees and poured over the shiny red hood.

    Letting the autopilot feature take over, Takehiko closed his eyes and sipped the hot cup of semi-strong coffee he’d purchased despite the warm weather. He eased his curly-haired head back onto the soft headrest. He seemed to contemplate the upcoming reunion, and I wondered if memories might have flashed through his mind.

    We were going to meet someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

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  • Art and Photography,  Poetry,  Translation

    Five micro-poems by Margarita Serafimova (translated from the Bulgarian) Photography by Milen Neykov

    November 18, 2019 /

     

    L’éternel retour
    (Eternal Return)

     

    An animal I am when I love you,

    and above my face, an aureole of cosmic bodies is spinning –

    ringed planets; a star’s glint.

     

    ***

     

    L’éternel retour
    (Вечното завръщане)

     

    Животно съм, когато те обичам,

    а над лицето ми се върти ореол от космически тела –

    планети с пръстени; отблясък на звезда.

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