by Surosree Chaudhuri | May 20, 2021 | 2021, May, Poetry
I can barely see my floor for all the mess and I haven’t washed my hair in 4 days. I don’t know what I need but what I want is someone to scoop up my sun-melt by the moon-glow at times like this when I completely lose myself. When I lose my purpose. I want...
by Surosree Chaudhuri | May 6, 2021 | 2021, May, Poetry
The growth inside you, you can only guess exists– the strengthening malignant allium a tumor blossomed & when your stomach fails to digest you leave your house in pain to meet me at the bar & fuck, you needed a job with benefits but I, too, lack insurance...
by Surosree Chaudhuri | May 2, 2021 | 2021, May, Poetry
My mother and I are reclined in cerulean blue beach chairs while the Sun bakes our bodies a golden brown. Between us rests an ice-cold YETI, the closest we’ll get to the Himalayan monster. A child nearby is wailing. He sits crossed-legged and red-cheeked, lamenting...
by Junpei Tarashi | Apr 22, 2021 | 2021, April, Poetry
Past the sunset, we’re in pursuit of leftover angles. After I work and pray I might tell you slowly I can’t make my living in the latest wilderness. Armed with a penchant, for every known answer, I refused to wonder about life recorded in piles of sketches. But...
by Junpei Tarashi | Apr 8, 2021 | 2021, April, Poetry
It’s late tonight. The lights are out. The time has come to check each route. Stealthily checking every door. Windows and balconies, once ignored. Drumming my fingers, nodding off Still waiting for a single cough. A sign of life my kids are there. Just one more...
by Junpei Tarashi | Mar 25, 2021 | 2021, March, Poetry
one could never tell if the bartender’s love for the classic teen drama came from a place of sincerity or was hipster irony – but it didn’t matter – on Mondays when kindred spirits came together at the bar reliving their coming of age as twenty-somethings...
