My whole life I heard her sing. / I never heard her speak.

By Kamelya Omayma Youssef
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Essays

Discourses of compliance and metrics foreclose collective possibilities in reimagining approaches to justice and equity that are organized in care and love

Poetry

機遇到來 / 我失去 / 垂手 | An occasion arises / and I lose / an entire world

Fiction

She selected a single star on which to direct her attention. We are one light, she told herself.

Interviews

While I was doing witness work around violence, I was also always living in a shadow space where I could be safer, where I could be protected, where I was known, where I could not be misread

Poetry

I’m severe I’m severed I’m savior—

Reportage

Does the decades-old NYC tradition of community patrolling keep city streets safer?

Poetry

The air opened and she was gone

Reportage

How performance and storytelling helps to nurse old wounds and heal trauma.

Interviews

“It feels like you have crossed a river you cannot cross back again”

Fiction

In Chinese, filial piety is a homophone for peel.

Poetry

Should you die my beloved / I will become a dyke / cut my hair to the scalp / demand history to know wrong / is done if you are taken from me

Poetry

I tried to be a good daughter / and tell the right story to the guests, who were / always listening from their window across the road.

Reportage

A Yemeni American activist’s take on the NYC mayoral race, political activity within the Yemeni community, and striking out on her own

Poetry

When baba worked for the Oil Co. they allotted him / a farm house

Fiction

I never understood the concept of wearing an outfit only once, by which I mean I’ve never thought about my own wedding.

Poetry

your wrinkled eyelids folded and folded upon / opening fields where I grow

Poetry

shuffling their feet toward the family, idling by / the lip of a suddenly crowded room

Poetry

Put in ear buds to bloom elsewhere. / Elsewhere, I am already a father.

Essays

What got you through those first few months of COVID? What comes to mind when I say, “body?” How will you live now?

Essays

The morning I was hit by a bicycle was the last time Ma asked me to do an errand before she left us to work in another country.

Essays

Discourses of compliance and metrics foreclose collective possibilities in reimagining approaches to justice and equity that are organized in care and love

Poetry

Should you die my beloved / I will become a dyke / cut my hair to the scalp / demand history to know wrong / is done if you are taken from me

Poetry

機遇到來 / 我失去 / 垂手 | An occasion arises / and I lose / an entire world

Poetry

I tried to be a good daughter / and tell the right story to the guests, who were / always listening from their window across the road.

Fiction

She selected a single star on which to direct her attention. We are one light, she told herself.

Reportage

A Yemeni American activist’s take on the NYC mayoral race, political activity within the Yemeni community, and striking out on her own

Interviews

While I was doing witness work around violence, I was also always living in a shadow space where I could be safer, where I could be protected, where I was known, where I could not be misread

Poetry

When baba worked for the Oil Co. they allotted him / a farm house

Poetry

I’m severe I’m severed I’m savior—

Fiction

I never understood the concept of wearing an outfit only once, by which I mean I’ve never thought about my own wedding.

Reportage

Does the decades-old NYC tradition of community patrolling keep city streets safer?

Poetry

your wrinkled eyelids folded and folded upon / opening fields where I grow

Poetry

The air opened and she was gone

Poetry

shuffling their feet toward the family, idling by / the lip of a suddenly crowded room

Reportage

How performance and storytelling helps to nurse old wounds and heal trauma.

Poetry

Put in ear buds to bloom elsewhere. / Elsewhere, I am already a father.

Interviews

“It feels like you have crossed a river you cannot cross back again”

Essays

What got you through those first few months of COVID? What comes to mind when I say, “body?” How will you live now?

Fiction

In Chinese, filial piety is a homophone for peel.

Essays

The morning I was hit by a bicycle was the last time Ma asked me to do an errand before she left us to work in another country.