“jota de manila” and “i recognize the silhouette”

By Karina Fantillo
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Interviews

An interview with essayist Nina Sharma

Poetry

I’ve never seen my therapist
wear his winter coat outside

Poetry

By some miracle
his bike was still going bone straight.

Poetry

our resistance our resistance our resistance our resistance

Essays

With plans for a new jail in Chinatown underway, community trust in the police erodes.

Interviews

A conversation with Julie Otsuka

Poetry

one leftover lychee from last night’s mimosaing, mimosaed decadence

Essays

A young woman struggles to stay in a loving relationship while being haunted by a past abuser.

Poetry

the cows eat the remmants of dew/
the cows eat 乾 and 坤

Poetry

You lived in this body and
ripped the wallpaper out.

Poetry

Are they happy?
Who knows?

Poetry

maybe that makes me primal. or maybe it makes me whole.

Essays

لكن المنـفى ينبت مرة أخرى كالحشائـش البرية تحت ظلال الزيتـون | Exile sprouts anew, like untamed grass beneath the shade of olive trees

Poetry

there are no more
orange groves in Jaffa.

Poetry

If you play, you wish to be innocent. If you do not, you submit to empires.

Poetry

We are willing to be buried.

Poetry

“Color” and “To a Friend I Miss”

Fiction

before she could contemplate doing something for herself with her time

Essays

Once a Maoist dry-goods business, the store has become a hub for Asian American culture and community

Interviews

An interview with essayist Nina Sharma

Poetry

I’ve never seen my therapist
wear his winter coat outside

Poetry

Are they happy?
Who knows?

Poetry

By some miracle
his bike was still going bone straight.

Poetry

maybe that makes me primal. or maybe it makes me whole.

Poetry

our resistance our resistance our resistance our resistance

Essays

لكن المنـفى ينبت مرة أخرى كالحشائـش البرية تحت ظلال الزيتـون | Exile sprouts anew, like untamed grass beneath the shade of olive trees

Essays

With plans for a new jail in Chinatown underway, community trust in the police erodes.

Poetry

there are no more
orange groves in Jaffa.

Interviews

A conversation with Julie Otsuka

Poetry

If you play, you wish to be innocent. If you do not, you submit to empires.

Poetry

one leftover lychee from last night’s mimosaing, mimosaed decadence

Poetry

We are willing to be buried.

Essays

A young woman struggles to stay in a loving relationship while being haunted by a past abuser.

Poetry

“Color” and “To a Friend I Miss”

Poetry

the cows eat the remmants of dew/
the cows eat 乾 and 坤

Fiction

before she could contemplate doing something for herself with her time

Poetry

You lived in this body and
ripped the wallpaper out.

Essays

Once a Maoist dry-goods business, the store has become a hub for Asian American culture and community