the manner / in which the oaks nod to me it’s funny / I swear there are no magnets / lining my boots / maybe just a few nickels
This involves modulating my voice and accent so that I sound more Malay. It’s like having to work for my right to eat there.
having grown up using utensils she will never understand the comfort it brings: someone forming little mounds of rice that are pushed by the thumb into your mouth
America swallowed my parents / spit out skeletons / Waleed became Bill / the Clintons stretched / their skinny vowels / over my father’s father’s father’s name
A new episode of AAWW Radio with guests Ather Zia, Hafsa Kanjwal, and Sameetah Agha
my eyes are closed / & i won’t lose my temper, want a world where my people aren’t background, refuse / to be an extra in someone else’s weekend again.
I grow up: I never learn / Chinese: I never go to China: we eat until our stomachs peached: we grow peaches on trees and they are moneyed: we bury / their hearts in the dirt: fullness is 貴 is: priceless:
“I don’t think that writers choose their subjects. I think they choose us. I think they step out of history books, off the sidewalk, or from a near future, and they say, ‘Hey, fool, you’ll be writing this one!'”
I dress devotedly. I devote my time to smoothing the knots in my hair. / I lace rum and cokes with devotion. My aloe vera plant sings devotion.
it was such a big no-no that I had this impression of dialects 方方言言 being like swear words, or haram
We are becoming hardened. I sense a hardness in the so-called liberal circles, artist circles, activist circles.
The questions of who can eat what, and where, and with whom, are facts of Malaysian life, negotiated daily and often subconsciously.
My friend uses words I know: / desert, rainfall, homeland. Speaks with / dead wet sea eyes of a house where her / grandfather found peace.
Unearth the map of storied constellations. / Vibe the unknown. Wager that fear is not our common dialect.
Salah satunya: mengumpulkan sandal dari seluruh Indonesia dan diberikan kepada si polisi. || One such action: collect sandals from all around Indonesia and give them to the police.
A collection of the six works of writing, translation, audio, and photography that nuzzle into different corners of this apparent insignificance
do you know somewhere inside their language, lies something mine?
땀과 핏물과 진물이 뒤섞여 끈적한 그의 맨발이 젖어 번들거린다. || His bare feet, sticky with a mix of sweat and blood and ooze, glisten.
if I extradited myself from my body cleaved into infinite / particles you’d never step all over me at once
it was such a big no-no that I had this impression of dialects 方方言言 being like swear words, or haram
This involves modulating my voice and accent so that I sound more Malay. It’s like having to work for my right to eat there.
We are becoming hardened. I sense a hardness in the so-called liberal circles, artist circles, activist circles.
having grown up using utensils she will never understand the comfort it brings: someone forming little mounds of rice that are pushed by the thumb into your mouth
The questions of who can eat what, and where, and with whom, are facts of Malaysian life, negotiated daily and often subconsciously.
America swallowed my parents / spit out skeletons / Waleed became Bill / the Clintons stretched / their skinny vowels / over my father’s father’s father’s name
My friend uses words I know: / desert, rainfall, homeland. Speaks with / dead wet sea eyes of a house where her / grandfather found peace.
A new episode of AAWW Radio with guests Ather Zia, Hafsa Kanjwal, and Sameetah Agha
Unearth the map of storied constellations. / Vibe the unknown. Wager that fear is not our common dialect.
my eyes are closed / & i won’t lose my temper, want a world where my people aren’t background, refuse / to be an extra in someone else’s weekend again.
Salah satunya: mengumpulkan sandal dari seluruh Indonesia dan diberikan kepada si polisi. || One such action: collect sandals from all around Indonesia and give them to the police.
I grow up: I never learn / Chinese: I never go to China: we eat until our stomachs peached: we grow peaches on trees and they are moneyed: we bury / their hearts in the dirt: fullness is 貴 is: priceless:
A collection of the six works of writing, translation, audio, and photography that nuzzle into different corners of this apparent insignificance
do you know somewhere inside their language, lies something mine?
“I don’t think that writers choose their subjects. I think they choose us. I think they step out of history books, off the sidewalk, or from a near future, and they say, ‘Hey, fool, you’ll be writing this one!'”
땀과 핏물과 진물이 뒤섞여 끈적한 그의 맨발이 젖어 번들거린다. || His bare feet, sticky with a mix of sweat and blood and ooze, glisten.
I dress devotedly. I devote my time to smoothing the knots in my hair. / I lace rum and cokes with devotion. My aloe vera plant sings devotion.
if I extradited myself from my body cleaved into infinite / particles you’d never step all over me at once