668 entries in Mag: Articles

Injeolmi Rice Cakes

Once Maternal Grandmother set off, a basin of injeolmi rice-cakes on her head, to sell in this neighborhood and that, I would pull out scraps of glass, bottle tops, a broken pocketknife, medicine bottles,…...

Gamak Valley

During wartime the men die, the women survive. Cockerels have their necks twisted and die, hens sit on eggs. Gamak Valley in Yeonsan, north of Nonsan in South Chungcheong is where sharp hills approach…...

My Wife’s Magic

My wife is sad and seeing my sad wife, I too am sad, then as she answers her mother’s phone call, “Sure, we’re fine,” the wife inside my wife grows sadder still. I want to live…...

War

Men plan wars And women survive in the rubble One day there will be no men And a woman will pursue another In search of the scent of the last man Who touched his lips to her neck. © Manal Al-Sheikh.…...

My Body

A body that is the one I borrowed the first night with you . . .  I watch it every night running toward a waveless sea where the sand of age rests in its veins . . . The wearied ships land in its…...

On Death

When we die the words we haven’t said yet turn to bubbles to inflate the body and smuggle it from the grave while the cemetery keeper sleeps. But we run up against the stone slab over our bodies,…...

Downtown

My share of sleep: four hours eleven minutes.
 I roll my pierced heart across the bedcover: it slams into the door, leaving
 a line of mud behind. I believe a tree
 will come one night…...

A Stray Bullet

After crossing the living room, the library, the corridor and the photo that brings us together on a trip to Nahr al-Kalb, and after passing by the washer and my mother (exhausted in spite of the washer),…...

Mud Flats

She lies there with her hugely pregnant body. At dawn a ship leaves, cutting through her stomach. As it emerges from her body, headed for the sea, trailing its umbilical cord, oh, from within her body…...

Earning My Keep

Mother, I think I'll go pay a visit to Hell. No matter how far away, I'll set off as if leaving for work in the morning then come back as if coming off work in the evening. Don't skip meals,…...

Standing Stones

everything I want to tell you son Is that you should go through suffering           If you come to its shore if its shore comes to you Enter its night    …...

Darkness

Every man would have as Rilke wished a personal death:             so well deserved, like love, private, inner, contained, a seed, the same as childhood’s…...

On the Brink of Life

The dead need no more space than a mouth from its lipstick. They skate on the shutters. This slit of daylight is their last look, which spies us exchanging a kiss in a lapse of their memory. They’ve…...

Any More Than a Look

A jersey skirt between the belly and the gray day. The Eiffel Tower cries electricity. On Mirabeau Bridge, a woman strokes the fabric thinking of the passing minutes, the year’s deaths in her journal…...

My Bones

My bones have beautiful remains already cut, it’s true already mended together as they bravely remain. They hold my flesh and skin on. I bring their troop along and bring myself along with it (old…...

Millennia

Mankind, this late in coming, rewinds a thread of the world along the stalls of early produce crates, market palettes smell, wet, like their tree of origin. Nearing the very depths of us transfusion of…...

Making Peace

Let’s come to an agreement, poem. I’ll stop forcing you to say what you don’t mean and you won’t resist my desires. We’ve wrestled a lot, you and I. Why insist on creating…...

Omaira

The question I left you takes a lifetime to answer dear friend whose linen sleeve smells of blood The master’s gaze is bare, I lean back, untroubled my checkmate at hand, a cyanide solitaire in my…...

Union

I don’t know how to become one with you. If you’re heaven, then tell me. I will kneel to every god. If you’re hell, then tell me. I will fill the earth with sin. I don’t know how…...

Separation from Earth

When I exploded Like the horizon, my hair Became a belt around the Earth’s waist. For the frozen poles of the south, I turned myself into a pair of socks, For the chills in the North, from threads…...

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