Someone circulated quietly around the room.

We were two sides of the same glass

I’m learning, each day, what it may mean to live.

Twenty-one writers interpret the genre

Poets share what draws them to the genre

Following the brush

Like a snake smelling your wrist when you bend
to pick a toad lily

Each wave, larger than the one before.

Pulled up in the net of memory

Only light moves fast enough for me.

zuihitsu for group c

I have never met anyone who looked like me.

I walk back into the city, which wraps round me like velvet trimmed with stars.

A zuihitsu

Perhaps it doesn’t matter what’s in my hands, but how my hands hold

Oh, my windowsill garden: bloom!

Flooded with bright orange and yellow the painting completes itself.

Of course, there are common words

there is no self just rapture

The roar of life through a thimble.

If I stay shut, I’m just my pair of eyes.

I will be bird to your wire.

what if this is not about blood at all?

“domestic bliss” and “it brings a tomorrow feeling”

Satsuki Shibuya’s “Zuihitsu: Peaceful” and “Zuihitsu: Fiery”

Queer poet Ching-In Chen’s letter to their younger self procures its epistolary strength from the loosely connected ideas of the zuihitsu.