By what divine aberration did our souls divide into two, unaware of the splitting?
These are all birth stories, but I will not tell you mine.
They always had us at hello, the Americans.
‘Sometimes you are damaged. You think poetry will repair you. You think poetry should repair you. You shake your fist at it when it doesn’t. You walk hand-in-hand with your damage, into the world. You do not speak. You are surprised when people register you are there.’
Come on by as we listen to globally-inspired composer/vocalist Imani Uzuri (whose “gorgeously chesty ruminations” [New York Times] “sound equally at home on an opera stage or a disco 12-inch” [Village Voice]) perform a blues set and Bill Cheng read to us from his bluesy new novel “Southern Cross the Dog.” Characterized by a linguistic style that’s been […]
Wah-Ming Chang talks to the author about reading, writing, and Hari Kunzru’s voice.
“My strength is writing about Chinese people and dirtbags, and Chinese dirtbags.”
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